The Unfortunately True Confessions
by hpngtdi
Summary: Candice Smith is alone in a strange world, armed with nothing but a diary and pen, forced to take on the lack of proper restrooms and tampons. How will she survive? Something of a parody/deconstruction of the typical 'girl falls into ME'. Please RxR. Rated T for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own LotR. Just my OCs.

Notes: This is not a parody, but it as isn't a deconstruction fic. My advice would be to not take it to seriously.

Chapter One

**Day One,**

Since when do I keep a diary?

Oh, and also, WHERE THE HELL AM I?! why am I in a forest? In my pajamas? With nothing but a leatherbound book and a pen? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!

**Day Two**

Still no idea what's going on. Getting hungry, walked all day and no sign of a city or town. Or road, or outhouse. Had to go in the nature and I still feel uncomfortable. Also constipated. I refuse to poop.

**Day Three**

I pooped. Don't worry though, I used some of your pages as toilet paper.

**Day three, later**

Now my ass hurts. I may have a paper cut.

Still no cities, towns, roads, or outhouses. Where am I an who's responsible?

**Day for**

Found a stream and a bush with berries that tasted like mud. No longer starving/thirsting to near death.

But I am looking more keenly for an outhouse.

**Day five**

I have found a road! Hallelujah!

That or the mud berries are causing me to hallucinate this dirt path. I doubt this option- my imagination could do much better.

**Day Five, later**

Road ended. Crap.

Found another stream, tried to bathe. Failed miserably and am now wearing soggy pajamas and my mud-berries are gone. Good riddance. They tasted like mud anyways.

**Day Six**

Been gone a week, starting to seriously panic. What if I'm dead and this is the afterlife? What if I'm in a coma?

Thoughts to depressing. Going to sleep.

**Day Seven**

My ass must look like it was attacked by a fleet of paper plains.

Managed a proper bath as the stream I found is deeper. Apparently stream water causes massive pain when in cuts on ass.

Found more berries. Unfortunately they are of the mud variety. Tried eating what may have been an acorn.

**Day Seven, Later.**

Thoughts still depressing.

But I may be being followed. Sometimes I feel someone behind me and smell horse shit, but perhaps I am finally going crazy.

DOES THIS FOREST NEVER END?!

**Day eight**

Forest ended. Empty vast field began. Going to have trouble finding discreet place to 'go'

**Day Eight, later**

I was being followed. There is a man a mile back on a great big horse.

Hurrah! No longer alone!

**Day eight, even later.**

Not Hurrah. Not Hurrah at all. More later.

**Day Eight again**

Man is odd- handsome, but old-ish. Has dark hair and a scraggly beard. He speaks not a word of English or anything else I know. Which is British English. Perhaps he's french? He's ignoring me now.

He's dressed rather oddly and carries around a sword and knives and a bow and arrow.

Have a stumbled into an alternate dimension? That would be a drag, but less so than if this man was a delusional serial killed.

This man doesn't seem to like me- he's sitting across the fire and glares my way on occasion. I think he's slightly disturbed. He said something that sounded like 'stay put' and ran off to do something.

Spent a moment contemplating possibilities of what's happening and sneaking off to the restroom.

He's back now- he saw me about to eat a mud-berry and looked at me like I had mad cow disease. He then butchered up a fluffy little rabbit.

Oh- he's talking in that odd language again!

**Day Eight, but it may just be midnight or early into day nine. Not sure.**

Ate some rabbit. It was good, Have developed a taste for burnt rabbit. Better than mud-berries.

Perhaps he doesn't hate me?

**Day nine, for sure as I just woke up**

Woke up with the kind, if psychopathic and insane, man's cloak draped over me. Thanked him but not sure how much got through.

Neck stiff from sleeping on ground. Shivering- have never been this cold.

Should have fallen asleep in a parka.

Ate leftover burn rabbit for breakfast- the man even heated it up. It has a nice quality to the meet- chewy yet tender.

I decided I should introduce myself, so I pointed to me and said "Candice" very clearly, and then pointed to him with a questioning.

"_Candes?_" he asked, as if translating my name into his language. I sighed and shrugged and sort of nodded. Oh, well, close enough. Then he muttered something that sounded as if it translated as "_Candes_ indeed" while looking at me like I was in a corset and undies and not perfectly modest, if filthy, pajamas. But he did point to himself and say "Gorvon".

What a peculiar name.

He seems to be trying to get me onto his horse...I think he's getting exasperated that I won't stop writing to figure out how, because-

**Day Nine, later**

spent a day on a horse he yanked me onto. How rude.

But we are eating rabbit again tonight- not burned, what a shame, but still good.

I had a lot of time today to panic and wonder where I was and what was going on. Had a nice conniption fit. Gorvon seemed ready to use one of his multiple weapons on me. It has crossed my mind that he may not be entirely trustworthy.

I think I may be coming down with a cold.

**Day Nine, at night**

Not a cold. Just a stomach bug. Threw up days worth of my intestines.

Gorvon was smug about the whole thing, pointing to a mud-berry and then to my puke, and then he waggled his finger at me. Well fine then, misted condescension. I didn't like them anyways.

Needed a bathroom break, which was quite awkward, more so than last night when I went as he was hunting bunnies. I am back to not pooping- he actually buried my vomit, I hate to see what he'd do with excrement.

But he is nice. He gave me some non-mud berries and his spare cloak to sleep under.

Chivalry isn't dead, it just comes in the form of scarey men with swords who know how to burn a good rabbit and may or may not have bad intentions.

**Day Ten**

arrived outside a small town. Before entering, Gorvon draped his cloak around me and said, very seriously, "Candes, something something something, something something."

I think he was telling me not to remove the cloak as he made sure it was fastened and every time it opened a little, he pulled it shut and gave me a sharp look.

**Day Ten, noon**

I now know the mystery of the cloak. Everyone here is dressed as the Amish.

Also, several seem to have deformities.

Wait- was that just-

ooo

**Hope you liked it, pleas review- I appreciate feedback immensely.**

**Also, the Candes thing is a play on her name, which, in Sindarin, roughly translates as 'Bold Woman', I believe; rather fitting as she was dressed, by ME standards, as a hooker.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Day eleven.**

Fainting isn't fun. Note to self; avoid future fainting.

But it's not to abnormal, seeing how I JUST SAW A BUNCH OF HOBBITS RUNNING THROUGH THE INN GORVON DRAGGED ME TOO!

I wish I was kidding, but you're my diary. Why would I kid around _you?_

I was in such a state of shock at seeing non-prosthetic giant hobbit feet that I fainted. Since I have a rather large bump on my head, it's safe to say no one caught me.

Jerks.

So the question begs; AM I IN MIDDLE EARTH?! Is that even possible? I'd say not, but...a hobbit. A real, live, hobbit.

But let me describe, in detail, my morning so far;

When I came too, I was in a small room with one bed and a rickety closet. There was a woman there- her face was harsh and scary. She pointed to a wooden cup on the table by my bed and demanded I drink. Normally I wouldn't accept water from strangers, but she scares me. Then she pointed to a wooden crate filled with water, and what looked to be soap, and two pieces of fabric, one small and one large, perhaps towels? A chamber pot- which no, I will not poop in- and a pile of clothing.

When she saw I wasn't moving, she snapped at me and pointed to the wash bin again. I hesitantly got up and walked towards it, and bent down by it, reaching for the washcloth, but the woman tutted and snatched it away, STRIPPED ME DOWN, and began scrubbing herself! I feel so violated- especially since she tutted (tutted!) at the sight of my rear end. IT'S NOT MY FAULT THERE WAS NO TOILET PAPER!

This whole time I was rather freaked by the whole situation, so I was functioning on autopilot.

When she deemed me clean enough, she dried me roughly with the 'towel', and began shoving clothing over my head.

The first thing was this sort of thin white dress (no, no underwear for me), then a plain white dress of thicker fabric, then a sort of sleeveless blue apron-dress-thing, than a white _actual_ apron- I fit in well in Amish country. Thankfully she didn't work on my hair- her's was pulled back so tightly her scalp must have been screaming.

And then she left and told me, I assume, to 'stay put'. Then I found you and now I'm writing this.

**Day Eleven, later**

Gorvon tried to explain something to me, but I didn't get it- I _did_ make out the words 'Rivendell' and something else familiar, but not much. He then pointed to himself, and his horse, and the general direction of the exit of town.

Then he pointed to me, the floor, and th scary woman- apparently her name is Mildburg, or something of the like. I can't pronounce it, but Mildburg seems to fit her nicely

But then- get this- HE LEFT! I was so shocked I forgot to be angry with him. Honestly- we spend three days together in the wild and he just LEAVES ME HERE?!

I am so offended.

**Day Eleven, even later**

Apparently, the condition of me staying in the shabby room is that I work. Mildburg has made me scrub the dishes, sweep the kitchen floor, and make several beds, under her careful supervision and tutting. She has also kept me away from the rooms with smaller beds, lest I faint once more.

The work has given me time to reflect.

What if this is all just a dream or coma? It makes sense until you take into consideration the fact that I've slept and fainted, and that everything is remarkably clear. Just to be sure I discreetly pinched myself several times; I think Mildburg may have caught me once or twice because she seems to think I'm very strange.

So if I'm in Middle Earth...how? And why?

I am very tired and confused.

**Day Twelve**

Had to clean out chamber pots today. I no longer feel bad about pooping.

I hate my life and the jerk who left me here.

And Mildburg.

**Day Twelve, night**

Ate bread and cheese for dinner. No meat for me. Mildburg ate meat carved of the side of a boar. Oh, how I despise her.

**Day thirteen**

She must despise me as well. I had to clean everyone'schamber pots today.

Met another worker- a pretty girl named something intricate. I'll call her 'Rose'. She taught me how to wash clothing with a scrubbing board and soap. My hands are raw.

**Day Thirteen, later**

I was moved from my small room into the room where Rose and two other girls, who's names I cannot spell but will call Sheila and Doris, stay as well. My only possessions are two outfits (three, if you count my pajamas), you, the darling pen, and a cloak Gorvon forgot that I would be tempted to set on fire, were it not so warm and this place not so cold.

The other girl's think I'm a touch odd, but Rose and Doris are kind enough. Sheila was rather snooty until Gorvon's name was brought up and then she warmed up to me.

**Day Thirteen, night**

oh, dear, my period came early. What do I do?!

**Day Thirteen, slightly after the last entry**

Rose gave me an odd belt contraption laden with washable fabric. Do these people not have tampons?!

**Day Fourteen**

As well as washing out the guests chamber pots and the dishes, I also has to clean my menstrual belt. Joy.

What if this isn't middle earth but an elaborate slave-trade set up? I don't see much I can do other than play along, but I am quite unhappy. I miss my mother and father. And even my little sister, who is probably raiding my closet as we speak.

I want to go home.

**Day fourteen, night**

Mildburg made the mistake of letting me serve customers. Ogled at a group of hobbits and spilled soup and beer down a man's shirt.

Once again cleaning out my menstrual blood. It smells quiet gross, but no worse than fifty or so stinking chamber pots.

**Day fifteen**

Finally shown the proper latrine. How kind of Rose. Couldn't she have done this before?

Not that they're much more advanced than chamber pots, but they have better wiping materials.

**Day Fifteen, Evening**

Worked at bar today. It was hard at first until I realized that there were only two words I needed to know- 'pint' and 'half pint', and if they order the later give them the former and charge extra. Oh, and they only pointed to what type of ale they wanted, so I could differentiate easily enough.

Several said some things that had one of the burly men I presume works as security give them 'looks'.

Was I being called at? Gross.

Also slightly flattering.

But mostly gross

**Day Eighteen**

Sorry for neglecting you. Been worked to the bone. Mildburg has tired of my fear of Hobbits (and dwarfs, it would seem) and has forced me to interact with them as much as possible, lest I seem racist, I presume.

I have spent my days at the bar (where I am, apparently, best at keeping my calm for I don't know what the males are shouting at me), cleaning my menstrual belt (which is no longer necessary, but I am keeping in a basket I was given for my possessions), cleaning chamber pots and now proper latrines as well, and trying to learn the language.

I can now say 'Hello' and 'goodby'e, and some other things- Pardon me, I find, is a useful term. Oh, apparently 'period' is said the same was as adding 'womanly' and 'bleeding'.

I must go, Sheila and Doris and I must wash clothing for our guests.

**Day nineteen**

Picked up a new word- I don't know it's exact translation but it applies well to Mildburg and some of our more exuberant guests.

**Day Twenty**

Mildburg hit me!

I know she does it with some of he other girls when they flirt with a customer or something, but I never thought she would do this to me!

Its all her fault anyways- a burly man was demanding I do something with his horse, not realizing I had no idea what he was asking, and getting quiet aggressive, and I let that one term- you know the one- slip, and now I can't sit down.

**Day Twenty Five**

Thank goodness I found you! I thought you were lost!

Never ever hide in Mildburg's bag again!

Wait- what were you...

THAT WENCH!

**Day Twenty eight**

Have been avoiding writing in you so that Mildburg will not discover I have been in her bag, but I think she knows anyways. I have been assigned to help the stable boy muck the stalls, cleaning chamber pots, and- get this- menstrual belts for women who payed extra!

I am so disgusted.

And I hate that bitch.

**Day Twenty nine**

taught Rose and Doris the word bitch, pointing to a female dog and Mildburg they agree with me. But Sheila huffed and said something snooty.

Learning more language I doubt my mother would be proud of.

**Day Thirty**

Was flogged by Mildburg again.

She saw me writing in you and seemed to connect the dots that I had snooped in her things- stupid woman, had she not stolen from me, this would have never happened.

**Day Thirty six**

I have not written in you in a week and fear I will go mad.

It's all because that horrendous woman snatched you straight from my hand! She also locked the door to her room. I went to great lengths to get you back, including striking (which failed as I was beaten for refusing to work), and then, what proved victorious, getting Doris and the stable boy- a sweet lad named- what was it? I'll call him Joe. Anyways, I got Joe and Doris to call her a bitch and refused to tell her what it meant until she returned you.

Then I lied and said it meant 'woman'.

Was hit upside the head, but now I have you.

Learning new words- mostly for food and furniture, but some nice curses I enjoy muttering.

**Day Thirty seven**

Back to riding the cotton pony. Doris gave me a herb that dulls the pain somewhat, and a flower that, when rubbed on my inner thighs, downs the smell a little.

Mildburg, though fully aware of the situation, piled more work onto me. I wash dishes, serve diners, clean chamber pots, tidy rooms, make beds, wash clothing, wash menstrual belts, sweep floors, and have been told I am to learn how to sew clothing.

All in a days work.

I never thought I'd be thankful for those 'Teen Living' classes in which I had to learn to cross-stitch, but I am, because these people have no sewing machines.

I am finally coming out of my autopilot mode, and I am beginning to miss home very badly. I am still unsure what happened to me or if I am, certainly, in Middle Earth, but I don't care much, so long as I get home.

**Day Thirty Eight**

got a cold, on top of my womanly problems. Am bleeding and sneezing out of every end.

Am very miserable, so much so that Mildburg has softened my workload- barley.

**Day Thirty nine**

slept all day. Feel better, if bloodier and snottier.

Got a proper bath, not a scrub-down, at least.

But Mildburg had Sheila pull my hair into a tight, painful braid.

I want aspirin.

I want to go home.

**Day Forty**.

Still feeling tired and exhausted. The virus must be lingering.

**Day Forty Five**

Apparently, Virus was never gone.

Period over, but cold lasted a long time and was horrific- I was sicker than I'd ever been.

With the hygiene standards, surprised it didn't happen sooner.

**Day Forty Six**

went back to moderate workload. Better than being slave-driven, worse than being left alone to sleep through my pain.

Mildburg is the devil incarnate.

**Day forty seven**

back to full workload- and more. It's almost as if she only has so much time to slave drive me. Wait...

**Day forty Eight**

Guess who showed back up?

Gorvon, the stupid jerk.

Mildburg, seeing my anger, had me escort him to his room. There were several awkward moments until he pointed to his cloak, raised two fingers, and pointed at me, looking questioning.

I nodded, then turned on my heel and stormed out.

See if I ever give it back.

**Please review! Especially if you've alerted/faved the story!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! My Beta took a little vacation, so sorry for last chapters grammar, hopefully this one will be better.

Also, as one reviewer pointed out, the language is taking a while for her to learn; bear in mind, she's only been in ME a little over a month. Also, the language is e_ntirely_ foreign, and she's surrounded by bar-folk and peasants who use varying, inconsistent, accented, and altogether improper dialects. Finally, this is her diary- she doesn't feel the need to recount every word she learns. If and when she learns Elvish, I plan on writing in some translations, as there are a few reliable sources for that. Westron is more difficult to come by.

Chapter Three

**Day Forty Nine**

Small miracles- Gorvon is being pleasant.

He apologized- or as near as I can figure he apologized. I know how to say many forms of 'forgive me' and 'excuse me', and he seemed to be using them. What he was saying otherwise I don't know, but he didn't ask for his cloak back.

Rose gave me a pretty white hair ribbon today, and a tight hug. Doris and Sheila also seemed to be a little misty eyed...no clue as to what's going on.

**Day Forty Nine, night**

Got a Clue. Mildburg stormed into my room and demanded I place all my belongings in a small leather pouch. When I was taking to long, she did it for me-

She did not give me the blue dress, so I have only what I am waring- a thin shift, a heavy white over dress with a patch on the elbow, and a gray-with-green-tint over-dress apron like thing. She took you and my pen and stuffed you in as well. They she threw in a bar of soap, a cheep comb, my new hair ribbon, and my old pajamas.

She refused to explain what was going on even as I chased her out of the room and to the stables. Damn, that woman is fast for a crone.

I put the pieces together when I saw her hand my possessions off to Gorvon, but my protests were ignored.

The stable boy, Joe, waved at me as Gorvon piled my things onto a horse.

Mildburg said- well, as near as I can figure- "Your own issue from here," and Then, Once Again, Gorvon hoisted me up onto the saddle.

It felt kind of like old times.

While riding away, I called to Mildburg, "Nice to be rid of you," and then that fun word I love so dearly. Of course my grammar was probably off, but Joe burst out laughing and Gorvon coughed a little.

It all seems rather unfair- should I not get a say in where I go? True, I would probably ride off with Gorvon over staying in this dump. But still. It's the principal of things.

**Day Fifty**

Half the way to a hundred already?

I don't know what to do with my feelings about this.

Gorvon had been trying to help my speaking. He has been talking to me very slowly and deliberately and correcting the order I say some words in, and my pronunciation. He has also been helping my vocabulary, pointing to objects and telling me their names.

I thanked him and he looked very confused, but nodded.

I thought about my family today. I didn't want to write about them until now, as I don't know quite what to say.

My mother is named Shannon. She manages the local branch of a bank, she wares gray suits, and her shoes are always heels. When I was little she would let me walk in them despite my father rolling his eyes and pouting. My dad, Robert, did that a lot.

I kept on thinking back to when I got my rejection letter from UVA. My mother was disappointed, and she just shook her head and dealt with it. My father didn't speak to me for two weeks. I guess we didn't get along very well.

My little sister Melanie and I fought a lot. She always took my things. But she was a good sister- she would cover for me when I went to parties and would agree to walk to school on days when I needed the car.

I wonder how they're feeling without me.

**Day Fifty Three**

Got into a fight with Gorvon.

He was badgering me about learning the language and I snapped and said "Damn this stupid language, and damn you!" it was in English so he couldn't understand me, but he got my tone and was very huffy.

I was trying to hold out- I'm not by any means a part of the Gorvon fan club, and I didn't want him to think he'd won.

But today I felt very lonely, because I realized that he must not like me at all, if he can go this long without talking to me. I wanted to say "screw it!" but I don't want Gorvon to hate me, because then anyone who may have even slightly liked me will be miles away.

So I approached him. I believe our conversation must have gone something like this;

ME: Listen, I sorry

HIM: *looks confused*

ME: I not want to say _damn you_, I just not ... good

HIM: what?

ME: *after looking frustrated and flustered* I sorry. About said.

HIM: About _said?_

ME: about me. What I said.

HIM: Oh. No matter.

Nothing else was said about that, but tonight he left the rabbit in the fire for a little extra time, so it was burnt at the edges. Perhaps he doesn't hate me.

**Day Fifty Four**

Gorvon helped me up onto the horse- who is named _Millroch_, I have learned- nicely today.

Out grammar lesson was uneventful until I had to use the bathroom, and he taught me some more polite terms for it than those I had been using.

**Day Fifty Seven**

I have worked out the date today. It's the twenty-seventh of October. I have been here almost two months.

In other news, the scenery is changing from greenery to a more mountain-y scape- but still full of trees.

**Day Fifty Seven, Night **

Gorvon showed me how to spell my name in whatever language he speaks. It looks pretty.

But he's been getting more serious as we go on, shooting me odd looks and being very pensive. I'm slightly worried.

**Day Sixty Two**

Gorvon is growing odder daily. We barley speak except to go over language skills. Not that we ever spoke much, but this is strange.

I asked him if he was alright, and he just smiled, so I knew he wasn't. He never smiles much, at least not to me.

I've been wondering if maybe he has a family, a wife, children...he is a little old, but not overly so. I wonder if maybe he has a younger brother that annoys him or if his mother badgers him abut getting married or if he likes to till bad puns to his family. Since he only seems to know the moody, obnoxious side of me, perhaps I only know that side of him?

Back when I was in elementary school and didn't fight with dad so much, he told me that peoples personalities don't change, but their attitudes do.

I hope that's applicable here.

**Day Sixty Eight**

I have not had much time to wright. We have been walking a lot, and the terrain has become definitely rocky. We seem to be going through mountains.

Not much has changed, except that I feel a very sudden homesickness. I had the strangest craving for green-bean casserole just now. Cooked woodland-creature-on-a-stick is getting old, however good of a cook Gorvon is.

Oh, he allowed me to help him cook. It was not as fun as baking bread with Melanie but it came out OK, Gorvon ate his entire share.

I felt proud; it was my first time accomplishing something other than cleaning or serving beer since I arrived.

**Day Seventy**

I feel civilization closing in...but, where?

I have not given too much though to where my journey ends...

**Day Seventy Three.**

I am in Rivendell. I think I may have cried when we got here- elves are beautiful. I can't properly describe them. Their cities- sorry, _homes_ are stunning as well. I can't even properly put into words what I'm feeling.

So stunning that I fainted. I hope this isn't becoming a habit.

I have just woken up in a clean, silky sheath, with only you beside me-

wait, I think I hear someone- more later-

**Sorry for the long delay and short chapter... I tend to write slower when lacking reader response.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Note:** Expect longer entries, but less of them, now that things are getting juicy.

Chapter Four

**Day Seventy Three, Night**

Today has been bliss.

Well, mostly.

I was earlier interrupted by an elleth named Nimhel. She was achingly beautiful, like everyone here except for me and Gorvon. And in all honesty, he's rather fine himself.

Seriously, this is unfair! Okay, so I was never stunning or beautiful. But I was always pretty, usually one of the prettier girls in the room. I have the whole blonde-hair, blue-eyes thing going for me and I'm pretty fit, because I was a cheerleader in High-school, even if I work as an assistant masseuse at a spa now and have zero time to work out between that and college. I was always a solid seven-out-of-ten.

But here I am quite firmly the least good-looking thing around for miles. Even the men are more beautiful than me. How sad is that?

But moving on.

Nimhel spoke Westron, though heavily accented, so we could communicate in broken sentences and whatnot. She showed me to this small antechamber-type-place through a door in my room. There was a bath set up; a real, actual bath! Not one of those buckets Mildburg had us wash in. I was so happy. And it was filled with warm water. There were jars or shampoo and soap and scented oils, and a soft scrubbing-brush and a wooden comb for my hair and -get this- a razor! A rather scary and knife like one, but still.

There was more- yes, it get's better. Nimhel gave me a piece of wood with short bristles and a jar of something that looked pasty and powdery and smelled strongly of mint. And she told me they were for my teeth! Oh, to have clean teeth; you don't appreciate it enough until it's taken from you.

There was also a fluffy towel being warmed over a small fire (even at home, I didn't have this luxury!) and a silk shift (silk!), and a simple but lovely green dress.

Then Nimhel told me to take my time and said to come when I was ready.

So I did.

Take my time, that is.

I soaked for at least half in hour, scrubbing my skin and washing my hair and shaving, and feeling cleaner than I had in months. Elves make fantastic bathroom supplies (even their latrines are more sophisticated and have much better wiping materials. Though wool does take some getting used to, it is better than corn cobs). But their soap and shampoo and oils are like heaven.

I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, pulling it back and using the ribbon Rose gave me like a headband, and dressed myself, and then brushed my teeth. The paste was grimy and unpleasant and I had to rinse my mouth out several times, but my breath smelled minty fresh.

There is something very therapeutic about being clean. Especially when you have not been for some time. At the Inn, we got weekly scrubs, and were told to chew mint leaves to keep our breath clean. And Mildburg yanked our hair back into braids. She is so barbaric. But now I am so comfortable, my hair feels smooth again, my shift is impossibly nice, and I don't smell bad, even after weeks traipsing through the woods.

When I got out, Nimhel had brought some food on a silver tray- nothing fancy, eggs and bread and a peach, but it tasted heavenly. I thanked her profusely. She seemed amused at how delighted I was by the food but was very kind.

Then she said "Lord Elrond wants to speak to you today, are you alright with that?"

I was a bit terrified at that point, but what was I going to say? _No, not at all, just let me eat and bath and dress myself here and ask no questions_? So I just nodded. And asked if I could have another peach.

So Nimhel took me to the kitchens, which were very male-dominant. Only a few ellyth were there, and they were all baking bread.

Nimhel was very careful not to ask to many questions. She simply pointed out rooms to me and told me about what they were growing in the gardens. She was impressed when I recognized a few, and especially so when I knew their use. She seemed shocked that I knew certain flowers were good for relaxation and what extracts made good pain killers.

I wasn't sure how to explain that I was going to community college to be a spa-specialist and interned on the side, so when she asked me where I learned everything, I said I was training as a sort of doctor. Not the kind who can sew up wounds or anything, but one who works with helping people relax. That seemed satisfactory.

She must have been told not to press me too much for answers because though she seemed curios, she just went on to tell me about the types of 'healers' they had in Rivendell. It was fascinating.

To be honest, I only went into spa-therapy because I was rejected from UVA. I had wanted to study math, because it was the only subject I ever got an A in (and by the seat of my pants at that), but I enjoyed learning about massages and natural remedies.

I wonder if I'll be able to learn any more here? I mean, there must be millions of things the elves know. But I'm afraid I'll be to shy to ask...

We ran into another elleth, and she was prettier than all of the others I had seen, which was saying something. She had silvery blonde hair and a sort of lean face- she didn't speak Westron and wasn't as kind as Nimhel, but the two were clearly friends. Her name is Lýthril.

Apparently she is something of a weaver, so her and Nimhel showed me to the room where the looms were kept, and hers was amazing.

I find it unfair that elves be beautiful, immortal, _and_ talented to a ridiculous degree. What do we mortals get? Facial hair?

Lýthril seemed pleased with my obvious awe at her work and when we continued our walk she pointed out several other tapestries she had made, each more beautiful than the last. She was a little...into herself, I'd say. But she did compliment my _innovative hairstyle_, as Nimhel translated. I am not sure, to be honest, that it was meant as a compliment, but I chose to take it as one. After all, I'd rather not feel like elves are mocking me.

Then came the fated hour. Nimhel walked with me to large oak doors (by this point Lýthril had left to finish up he latest creation) and knocked on them. They opened instantly.

There stood an old man. It took me a moment to register who he was; he had ridiculously bushy brows and was dressed entirely in gray robes. Then it hit me.

I kept myself from saying 'Gandalf?!', but I think he realized I though it. I don't know- there is something about Maia that really puts one off their game.

He didn't look kind and grandfatherly, I think I'll say. He was somewhat grouchy. Not mean, just... well, you know when someone is being kind but they really have other things to do so they're very short and slightly snippy with you? He was like that. I had imagined him that way when I read the books but the movies softened my image of him.

"Ah, right on time. Thank you, Nimhel." and then Nimhel left me and Gandalf ushered me inside.

The office was beautiful. One side opened onto a terrace, and the other walls were lined with bookshelves and maps and other doodads- I think I saw something vaguely telescope-y. There was a desk in the center, piled high with books and scrolls. Several chairs were around the room, each looking plush and comfy, most of them occupied.

There were five people other than me in the room: Gandalf, of course. Gorvon was there, and he flashed me what I assume was meant to be an encouraging smile but he looked far to awkward for me to take it seriously. There were two other elves; a blond I identified as Glorfindel and one with dark hair I assumed was Erestor, the chief adviser (I was right). And Elrond.

You know when you look at someone, and you just feel like you know them, even though you _also_ know that you _don't_ know them at all? Like celebrities or kids at school you have no classes with. Well, Elrond sort of gives that feeling, only there's the added feeling that you _can't_ know him, because he's a freaking elf lord. He was more removed than anyone I had ever met, but he also seemed kind...it was like staring at a contradiction. I don't know how to explain it.

I wasn't sure what was expected of me, so I just looked around quizzically.

"You are Candes, are you not?" Elrond asked. I just sort of nodded weakly. He smiled- perhaps he realized how scary he seemed to mortals, though Gorvon seemed fine.

"Gorvon has told us much about you. I hope you have enjoyed your day thus far?"

I managed to say something to the effect of "Yes, it has been lovely. Thank you for being such a gracious host." thankfully I picked up some guest/host lingo in Bree. Working in an Inn and whatnot.

I would like to say that Gorvon didn't need to look as shocked as he did. I _can_ be polite, you know! I _did_ deal with customers on a daily basis! And it is completely preposterous for him to have a hernia because I showed some manners. Honestly.

Elrond smiled at that response, and the others looked mildly impressed. So, Gorvon has been telling horror stories about me and words I scream at innkeepers?

"I am glad. And I despair to have to possibly ruin this, but myself and Mithrandir, Lord Glorfindel and Erestor have all been curious as to your origins since Gorvon told us about you."

So that's where he ran off to. To tattle on me.

"My origins?"

Erestor spoke up now. He's not as kind and sweet as fanfiction will have you believing. Not that he's _rude_, he just doesn't sugarcoat things for you. At least, he didn't for me.

"We all agreed that a young woman, wandering alone in the woods, looking entirely foreign and not speaking a word of Westron, Sindarin, or any other language known to a ranger is somewhat odd."

In hindsight, the fact that Gorvon was a ranger was atrociously obvious. But it shocked me a little at the time.

"You a ranger? One of the Dúnedain?" I asked, feeling like a kid in a candy shop.

"What did you think?" he asked. He looked curious and bewildered, like it should have been obvious. Well, it's not like he wore a name-tag! _Hello, my name is _**Gorvon, Ranger of the North**.

"I didn't." I confessed with a shrug.

"Candes, can you tell us where you are from?" Gandalf asked, keeping the conversation on track.

I paused.

What could I tell them? I had already divulged a bit about my past to Nimhel, so amnesia wouldn't work, but I doubted they would believe the truth. Still, what choice did I have?

"I not think I have the language to explain and if I did..." I shrugged, "you not believe me."

"And why do you think we would not believe you?" Glorfindel asked. He gave off much friendlier . vibes than the others. Not that they gave off bad vibes- oh, look at me, all hippie-ish. But you know what I mean.

"I have trouble believing me."

Well, they didn't take too well to that.

"If you think you have gone mad, I can assure you, you have not." Gandalf said firmly.

"How?"

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. You know, I thought that only happened in movies. Apparently not.

"Old man's intuition."

"Old man?" I raised an eyebrow. OK, so that was far from being my best move. In fact, it was the most brain dad thing I could have done.

For a moment everyone stared at me like I was hiding something. A long second. The longest second of all time.

God, I am such an idiot.

"Perhaps, Candes, I can speak with you tomorrow. I think you'll find that regardless of what you believe, I will be able to get some measure of you."

"I think that might be wise." I admitted.

After that was decided, Glorfindel cheerfully suggested we all go to lunch. He even offered to sit by me and help me with my Westron. Erestor rolled his eyes and informed me that I had a good grasp on vocabulary, but needed to learn some 'be' verbs and tenses and the like. He gave me an oddly extensive lesson on our way to lunch. And then after lunch as well. For a good two hours. I am not kidding.

Gorvon and Gandalf and Elrond all disappeared to have a chat I assume I was the topic of, but Glorfindel stuck around with me and Erestor, interjecting occasionally.

I do not think either meant to end up giving me a lesson in Westron, but Erestor seemed to get caught up in it, once he realized I was trying to remember everything he said. And I think Glorfindel found the whole thing amusing. And once I started to ask questions about certain vocabulary terms, I realized it was a good thing Glorfindel had stayed as Erestor launched into no less than three lectures about various verb forms and the like.

I am a bit better at Westron now, which I am proud of.

After that whole ordeal, Glorfindel offered me a tour. I think there must have been some secret _don't let her out of your sight because god knows who the fuck she is_ code sent out, because that's how things went since my unfortunate slip of the tongue. Part of me is annoyed- yes, I know more than I said, clearly. But what do they think I am, some sort of spy?

Wait, that's actually a possibility. Damn.

It's fine I'm sure, tomorrow I'll speak to Gandalf and clear everything up. He's a Maia, he'll know I'm telling the truth, won't he?

Oh, don't be silly. He will.

He will, I know.

I do.

Anyways, Glorfindel showed me mostly around the halls, telling me about the events certain paintings depicted. We came across one of Lýthril's and I mentioned I had met her. Glorfindel seemed shocked and amused at the same time.

That Elf has an impressive facial range.

"Oh? Did she regal you with the entire history of the house this depicts? Her lecture on how so few can truly understand th depth and symbolism in this, even among the Eldar, is quite impressive and informative."

"No, I am afraid I missed that." I told him, smirking.

"Count that as a small blessing. Come now, there are many more _easily understood_ tapestries."

So, my impression of her had not been entirely off, though I don't know if Glorfindel was just joking or really not fond of her. Probably the former, I think.

Soon it was dinner time, and once again I was steered away from people who may ask to many questions, but Nimhel and Lýthril did smile at me.

I ate mostly in silence- Gorvon was talking to a man who had recently appeared, most likely another ranger. They looked similar. The man glanced at me a couple of times.

After that, the best part of the day came.

The Hall of Fire.

I had known elves songs were amazing, wondrous and beautiful.

But this was something else. I don't think I can properly describe it. It was like a choir of angels, prettier than any song I had ever heard on earth. And I own the soundtrack of _Glory_.

I wish at times like these I had a tape recorder.

I mostly stayed towards the back with Erestor, trying to keep out of everyone's way. I wanted ask him what certain songs meant, but chose not to. Besides, were I listening to a conversation I would miss part of the songs.

I stayed for only an hour, however, before yawning. Nimhel offered to walk me to my room and I thanked her.

Oh, Gorvon was missing from the Hall of Fire, as was the other guy. I wonder why Gorvon didn't speak to me much today. Or at all, really. Maybe he figures I'm no longer his problem?

Well, he left me with Mildburg for a month, so if he thinks he's done with me, he has another thing coming.

**Day Seventy-Four, After Noon**

Morning a lot like last, only without bath. But I got to clean up again.

Given two more dresses; purple and blue. Chose purple.

About to meet Gandalf.

Wish me luck.

**Day Seventy-Four, Evening**

My last entry was rather spastic, was it not? Sorry, nerves.

I met Gandalf out at a terrace. He was sitting at a table that had some food on it: breads and cheeses and fruits, mostly. I didn't eat much.

"I thought that perhaps, in a less intimidating setting, this conversation would be easier," he said.

"Yes, but you still probably not believe me." I felt very hopeless. For all of my self-assurance that this conversation would go fine, I was scared.

"Well, let us see if that is the case. Tell me, where did you come from?"

"Place called _Richmond_, in country _America_."

"I have not heard of that place." He admitted. His eyes narrowed very slightly under his eyebrows- they really _are_ ridiculous, you know?

"It not exist now."

"I would have heard of its destruction, I think." He gave me another piercing look, like the kind after I said the _old man_ thing.

I shook my head.

"it did not...it is not destroyed. It no exist now."

"What do you mean."

So I showed him. I took three peaches and laid them on the table. I pointed at the left one and said 'Yesterday' then the middle one and said 'Now', and then the last and said 'tomorrow', and waited for some response. He nodded at me, looking very exasperated and confused. So I went on to part two of my plan. I pointed at the left one and said 'past', the middle one was again 'now', and the third one 'where I from'.

He just stared at me for a good, long second.

"Surely you realize this is no time for jest?" his voice wasn't cruel or accusatory, just very worried. I nodded miserably. He leaned back in his chair.

"Do you have proof of this?"

"A little- I how long Bilbo one-hundred-and-eleven?" I asked.

"Bilbo?"

"Yes. Hobbit. Old travel with...with drarves?"

"Ah, you mean _Bilba_. How do you know of him?"

Oh, apparently all Hobbit names are translation. Weird, right?

"In..." I pointed at the third peach and he told me the word for _future_, "In future, there books. Talk about..." I looked around, to make sue no one heard, "One talk about Bilba and his going to Erebor. Others...when Bilba turn one-hundred-and-eleven?"

"Now, hold on one moment. You tell me there are books about Bilba? And can you prove any of this?"

"I can try."

"Then do."

so I told him the entire tale- I made sure to include every detail I remembered, even small conversations within the company. And I took it a step further; I had read the _Unfinished Tales_, so I told him also of his side of things which raised his eyebrows. It took almost an hour and afterwords I was dying of thirst, so he disappeared for five minutes and returned with a jug of water and two goblets.

"That was, indeed, strange. You know what I am?"

"A Maia, one of Istari."

"_The _Istari."

I shrugged.

He pondered everything for a while, taking into account what I knew.

"Where Does Bilba's one-hundred-and-eleventh birthday tie into this?"

"It is when he comes to Rivendell, or starts his way, anyhow."

he looked up at me, and I knew right then that he believed me. Well, he knew I wasn't lying, anyways. But then he said something scary.

"Candes, Bilba turned that age over sixteen years ago."

well.

I knew Frodo kept the ring secret for about seventeen years, and I was hoping to spend some time without, you know, a war. This brought me closer to the action then I would have liked- I mean, being at the Inn... I guess my sense of time was way off.

"Candes, tell me what you know. Not future tidings, but things that are past."

So I told him everything. We sat there for hours. With me clarifying details and him asking pointed questions. It was tiring, but at the end my goal was achieved.

"Candes, I believe you. I know you are telling the truth, your knowledge is remarkable and, to be frank, alarming. I suppose you have foreknowledge concerning what is to come in the same detail?"

I nodded.

He sat in silence for another moment.

"Candes, return yo your room. I will speak to Elrond and the others. Though they may wish to question you themselves..."

I nodded and did as he said. And here I am now, as nervous as before.

But at least they don't think I'm a spy.

**Please review if you've faved/alerted! Or even if you just read it! I live for reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews. I am working the format out; I will need longer entries like last chapter but I want to keep the feel of early ones as well...

we shall see.

Also, while I strive for accuracy, I make no promises with time; indeed, ME/Earth time conversion is rather...odd. And difficult.

Chapter Five

**Day Seventy-Five**

I ate breakfast with Erestor, who was inquisitive as to my past and asked a lot of questions that had no simple answer. Thankfully Glorfindel was nearby to save my brain from exploding. Seriously, how would _I_ know from what families English is derived? I barely even know comma rules!

Gorvon introduced me to his friend Baradir and then proceeded to ignore me. He is so rude.

Aunt flow began her visit so I'm on the belt.

I asked Nimhel as subtly as I could where I could clean them. She took me to a cupboard and got some small-scale washing materials for me, and asked I knew how to use them. I told her that in the inn Gorvon left me, I cleaned these for a living.

She seemed utterly disgusted. We understand each other.

**Day Seventy Five, Later**

I just had the most awkward conversation of my life. Nimhel was apparently so disgusted by my description of Mildburg's inn that she ASKED GORVON ABOUT IT!

And then he tracked me down and had me tell him EVERYTHING.

At first I said, "Gorvon, no, I am not talking to you about menstruation." that almost worked, until he remembered that he hadn't asked me about that.

He is very insistent.

So I told him about my time at the inn.

Ad then he apologized.

I didn't know what to do because he looked very sad and guilty. Especially when I let slip that Mildburg flogged me a few times. I just reached up patted his head (quite the accomplishment because he's at least a foot taller than me) and said it wasn't his fault, even though a couple of hours ago I was angry at him for it.

I don't think he knows quite what to make of me.

I don't know quite what to make of him.

**Day Seventy-Five, Night**

Had a long talk with the council of people-who-seem-to-be-in-charge-of-my-fate.

Elrond decided that I will stay in Imladris or the time being. Which means that Erestor is going to teach me Sindarin. I am looking forwards to that. He also decided that I could learn whatever skills I was capable of learning, to see if I found something I liked and could be of some use in; I asked about botany and healing, and said I had some minor training, and he was pretty impressed.

At dinner I sat with Gorvon and Baradir. Gorvon had just been informed of my story and kept on giving me the oddest looks and shaking his head.

I think he may be having some sort of crisis.

**Day Seventy-Six**

Lýthril offered to teach me the basics of weaving.

I am certifiably terrible at it.

I saw Arwen- she is so beautiful it hurts to look at her. And I only saw her for a second.

**Day Seventy-Six, Evening**

Gorvon just left with Baradir.

He came to find me and said goodbye.

He also said he'd try to return soon. I smiled at him and said something to the effect of _well, this is better than the last place you left me_.

He looked guilty so I did something absolutely weird and unexplainable and hugged him.

He was rather taken aback but patted my back and said goodbye.

Are we friends?

**Day Seventy-Seven**

Today was long.

I ate breakfast with Nimhel then went to my first Sindarin lesson. Languages are hard. I only know a few phrases that I have copied into your back pages. But Erestor said that it shouldn't be to hard if I could manage Westron with little training.

I was shown to an ellon named Glaewron who works with my branch of 'healing'. He speaks Westron from dealing with trade. He quizzed me and seemed rather pleased, and immediately launched into the basics; how things are stored, what grows when, the best way to apply different types of mixtures, and other fun facts. He also listened to my explanation on massages and muscle relaxation and said that he knew of some odd eastern doctors who used similar techniques.

I did not leave his workroom until lunch, which I ate with him. He is amusing and eccentric, perhaps something akin to a mad scientist.

Glorfindel stopped by and ate with us, careful to steer the conversation away from me.

After lunch, he told me my cover-story; I was an orphan from an odd area between the West and the East, close to Rohan but not really (to explain my coloring). Apparently I hit my head and, while some things were fuzzy, most were fine. I made my way to Bree with Gorvon, who found me and could not track down my relatives or figure out what to do with me.

It's all rather intricate.

Then Lýthril showed me some stitches and helped me master them. I am bad at sewing, however. I keep on pricking my fingers.

Nimhel is an incredible seamstress. She sewed up a torn shirt in less than two minutes.

So it has been established that, while I cannot go withing three feet of any sort of threat or fabric without things going south, I am allowed to help Glaewron and learn from him.

I also got to visit the black smiths work place; it was very hot in there but I got to see several nifty weapons. The tanners smelled to bad to go near, and I almost choked on the sawdust surrounding the carpenters.

I did visit a songwriter, named Lindir, a friend of Erestor, who got some copies of old songs and had me identify the letters and words I had learned. He wasn't overly impressed but he said I did rather well, for my first lesson.

I did not go to the Hall of Fire after dinner, I was far to exhausted.

**Day Seventy-Eight**

I sat down with Elrond and Glorfindel today and told them as much as I knew about the past. Gandalf told me not to give away too much for fear that my knowledge could be dangerous.

Frankly, I am not sure what to do with it myself.

I can't risk that the war be lost, but at the same time...

I don't think I have met anyone who dies yet, unless Gorvon or Baradir...

Sorry about that long pause.

No, I am _certain_ I have yet to meet anyone who dies. Absolutely positive, even.

**Day Eighty**

Off the rag, got to bathe again.

Being clean is like heaven.

The past two days were much like all the others.

I go to breakfast, then Sindarin classes. Sometimes Lindir comes along and will sing something and help me understand the lyrics, which is always fun.

Usually after that I go learn from Glaewron, who is always very nice and entertaining, and listens to my stories about the inn (I only tell him the good stuff, though, like Joe putting snakes in Mildburg's bed) and lets me do hands-on-work with extracts.

Nimhel and Lýthril have sort of taken me under their wing; the former more than the latter, but I appreciate it. They sit with me at some meals and help me with whatever skill I try to master (though Lýthril told me that perhaps I should avoid looms), and introduce me to all sorts of interesting elves and are helping me settle into this routine.

I also spend a good amount of time with Glorfindel, who seems to be the only one who knows my story and still has time or energy to answer all my questions. Did you know that the who Blarog-wing conflict turns out-

Oh, drat, spilled my tea. Oh well, it's not like I'll forget that answer soon!

But despite this busy schedule I feel more homesick than ever. I miss my mom and her cooking and her smell and her level-headedness. I miss my dad and his good advice and... well, being my dad. I miss my sister and everything about her. I miss Macy who always put up with me, even when Toby dumped me on the night I planned on sleeping with him (in hindsight, it's best I'm still a virgin; I understand premarital sex is not looked kindly upon here).

I miss everything.

I wonder when and how I'll go back.

**Day Eighty-One**

I got to have a nice long chat with Gandalf, because he was leaving to do... something. I don't know what. He's very mysterious.

But I told him more about what I know. He said I could keep asking Glorfindel questions about the past, but I was not to talk about the future until he had a chance to speak to me again.

**Day Eighty-Two**

Made a successful herbal remedy today, Glaewron was impressed. He said I might be of some use and there was no reason I should not meet the other healers and learn from them, but he would ask Elrond about it.

I am happy to be able to do _something_ properly.

**Day Eighty-Three**

Some more rangers came today. They would have ignored me, but Gorvon had apparently run into them and had explained his prolonged absence (apparently he was planing on meeting one of them; Carathor), but he had not told them my story.

I had lunch with them; Carathor, Amdirben, and Hallbarad (who is actually Baradir's father; these Dúnedain all look a lot younger than they seem to be), and they seemed to be curious about the odd girl who had confused their dear friend so much.

I must say I quite like them. They are all very friendly and funny.

I did ask why they all here at once, because don't Rangers travel alone? Well, it turns out that a friend of theirs, Aithron, is celebrating his birthday in two days and that most Dúnedain in the area would try to make it, though thy would have to leave soon and they were not at all sure as to whether or not Aithron would even show, but it was nice to get some rest.

**Day Eighty-four**

Aithron showed up. He is just as likable as the rest.

You know, I never much paid attention to the Dúnedain in the books, and that's a real shame because they are all impossibly pleasant.

Glaewron told me I could meet with some of the other healers and learn from them; unfortunately not Elrond, because he has many Lord-of-Imladris type thing to tend to, but there are many other skilled healers here. That doesn't surprise me.

**Day Eighty-Five**

In the end only one more Ranger made it, Padhron.

The five took over a little table at dinner and invited me to sit with them, since if I could "put up with Gorvon for as long as I did, I must be a good chap".

Communicating was hard because they would often lapse into Sindarin (especially as they drank more), but they would make a point to tell some stories in Westron so that I could understand them (usually when it pertained to one of them that I had already met being embarrassed).

I went to bed early, because as nice as the Dúnedain were I was sure they wanted some time to celebrate privately, and I didn't want to intrude. Besides, tomorrow I a meeting some more healers. I am very exited.

**Day Eighty-Six**

The rangers left today. I said goodbye to all of them.

It's much quieter now.

**Day Eighty-Six, later**

I met a healer named Celegeth who told me about the absolute basics of healing.

She was rather patient with me as I asked my questions, but it felt like she was talking to a child, not a fully grown woman. She kept on making these flirty eyes at Glaewron, but I don't think he noticed.

Eventually she realized I was, despite my distinct not-elvishness, not a complete bone-head and was less condescending with her tone.

I didn't learn too much, but she explained how they dealt with some "mortal afflictions" that they did not suffer, like colds and the sniffles.

When we left, I told Glaewron "I think she likes you."

"Well, yes, we are very close friends."

"I didn't mean in that way," I told him. He just seemed a bit baffled.

I don't think that, for all his elven skill, he understands females to well.

**Day Eighty-Seven**

I visited the kitchens today with Nimhel- I was roped in to helping pluck a chicken, but that did not work out very well.

I almost threw up on it and was removed from the rooms for fear of being a health hazard.

Erestor found me half-gagging outside and sighed and said, very calmly, "Would you like to learn another song from Lindir?"

I agreed and we went and did just that.

**Day Eighty-Eight**

I met Lord Elrond's children.

His sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and Arwen, were filled in on my story and I was introduced.

Arwen has a personality that is more beautiful than her face, which is really unfair. I mean, for someone to be _that_ stunning is one thing, but she's so nice and kind that you can't even be properly jealous of her.

Elladan and Elrohir are very much all business. You know, everyone acts like they're the Weasley Twins of Middle Earth, but they're very serious; I suppose getting vengeance on Orcs will do that to you. Not that they aren't nice, but they're rather introverted and spent most of our rather brief meeting looking pensive.

Arwen said that she'd heard I was rather skilled, for a mortal, at healing from Celegeth and was sure that I would be very helpful. I suspect she was only being nice but I thanked her anyways.

**Day Ninety**

Almost to a hundred.

Glorfindel walked with me after breakfast and I asked if he would mind if I talked about my family. Not that writing in you isn't cathartic, but... it's nice when someone is listening.

He, being polite, agreed, and I went on for an hour about my parents and sister and friends. Occasionally I lapsed into English but I managed mostly in Westron.

I was so embarrassed when I finished because I was crying. Glorfindel just patted my head. It was strangely comforting.

**Day Ninety-One**

Flubbed up greatly.

I knocked half a shelf over in Glaewron's lab and spent the day cleaning (which I have gotten good at), apologizing (which I am not the best at) and beginning the plans for helping him restock things.

He was very gracious about the whole thing and told me that so long as I helped him with everything, I would be fully forgiven, and I was fully forgiven as it was.

I still feel awful, though.

**Day Ninety-One, Later**

Day got more interesting. And by interesting I mean worse.

During my Sindarin lesson, Erestor had me sing one of th easier songs Lindir had taught me. I was hugely embarrassed and refused until he gave me one of those stony expressions.

So I sang.

He suggested that perhaps we try other teaching methods.

**Day Ninety-One, Night**

After dinner Nimhel asked if I had heard the odd cat earlier in the afternoon, as it must have been near where my lesson was.

I just looked at her and sighed.

**Day Ninety-Two**

I spent my entire day working with Glaewron. It was fun, oddly enough.

Celegeth stopped by and helped for a while, with a young elleth (only seventy. What.) and they helped for a while.

My only break was to go to my Sindarin lesson (we had lunch brought to us, as with the other meals), where Erestor said that I was a rather good linguist, since I was picking things up rather well.

I told him that being thrown into another world where you have no choice but to speak something else will do wonders for your skills.

He just gave me a look.

**Day Ninety-Four**

The past two days have been much like the last one I documented.

I enjoy working with the extracts. Glaewron is always ready with a story or a song and never forces me to sing. He also answers all of my questions, which he attributes to my partial-amnesia and unfamiliarity with the area.

Now, I was rereading you, and I admit my curiosity got the better of me.

I asked him if Gorvon had a family.

"Well, his mother died long ago. But his father Gorven and him are very close. He has no brothers or sisters. He is unmarried and, of course, has no children. Why do you ask?"

"I am just curious." I said.

Working again has made me feel very useful. Even if all the work is my fault. And the time spent with Celegeth seems to be getting her to warm up to me a little, even if she does not much like me. I think she sees me as a particularly intelligent puppy or something.

Oh, and Nimhel got me a new dress, which is really just an old one she tailored. I thanked her profusely but then Lýthril said "Really, Candes, you are now just being silly" so I stopped.

I am glad she likes me. I'd hate to see how she treats people she dislikes.

**Day Ninety-Four, Later**

I discovered how she treats them.

Her and Erestor just had the most amusing and snippy debate over the interpretation of a certain ballad she based a tapestry off of.

Nimhel looked a little embarrassed, I was shocked, and Glorfindel looked like he could not smile more smugly if he tried. I don't see what he has to be smug about.

They were at it for a good fifteen minutes, and was getting a bit loud, before Arwen finally stepped in to ask Lýthril about a certain scene she had worked on and Elladan needed urgent advice about a translation from Elrohir.

I always pictured elves as one happy family.

This image is more amusing.

**Phew, that was long.**

**Please review, especially if you've faved/alerted this story.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! I realize that I set the fic to early; at this rate we'd have ten very monotonous chapters. So there may be a time skip or something of the same ilk.

Chapter Six

**Day Ninety-Six**

Another ranger came by today, but immediately was whisked off to meet with Lord Elrond.

I had a long talk with Glorfindel and Erestor about how I got here.

I left that conversation none the wiser but more confused. They're both extremely smart and I'm, well, not. So while they understood each other perfectly (and in every language they ended up using, no less) I just sort of sat there, eyes wide, exited when I caught a single word.

Finally finished replenishing the extracts I ruined. Glaewron told me I did well. Celegeth sort of nodded in agreement and smiled at me like I was a child. Which, to her, I was.

It's deeply bizarre to realize that all these people I am befriending have at _least_ hundreds of years on me- well, except Gorvon. But he's _in_ his forties.

Glorfindel is in the lead, age wise. He hasn't told me his age but he must be at least five thousand or so.

Freaking elves.

**Day Ninety-Six, Night**

That ranger from before?

THAT WAS ARAGORN!

No, but really. I met him. He knows my story. He asked me about it. He nodded pensively while looking at the ground.!

Honestly, this worries me; how will I react when I meet someone else I'm a fan of?

**Day Ninety-Seven**

I managed to have a conversation in Sindarin today!

To be fair, is was with Erestor, who is patient ad used to my botched elvish, and yes, it was about mushrooms, but still!

I told Glorfindel and he wasn't quite as exited, but Elladan (who he had been speaking to) cracked the first smile I'd ever seen on him. Though I doubt it was for the same reason as I was smiling, and I haven't actually seen him that much.

Still.

I feel accomplished.

**Day One Hundred**

Well, here I am, the big one-oh-oh

in my time in Middle Earth, I have

a) learned that pages make poor TP

b)been carted around on a horse by a complete stranger (who I may or may not be friends with)

c) been forced through slave labor and learned what women in the middle ages felt like

d) learned one (and a half-ish) languages

e) seen Rivendell

f) met Elrond, his children, Glorfindel, Erestor, Aragorn, and several other elves and Dúnedain

g) proved my usefulness (and lack thereof)

that is quite a lot.

I miss my family terribly, though. I can't believe I have been here for so long. Almost a third of a year. That doesn't seem like a long time but when you've been thrust into another world with only a diary and a pen, it is (where _did_ you come from? And how come you never seem to run out of pages/ink?)

I have learned so much here, but I just want to go home.

**Day One Hundred and One**

I cried today. Just curled up and had a pity-party.

I don't even know why.

Erestor was worried since I missed our lesson and though I was sick. I told him that I was fine, just a little sad.

He told me to come to the lesson, but he had a cake there and just asked Lindir to sing. I was still crying a the end of it but I feel a lot better.

**Day One Hundred and Five**

I've been busy these past few days. Nimhel has been teaching me basic household chores. I already knew a lot of them, but I sort of learned the 'elvish flare' aspects.

Like, with Mildburg, she told us to wet a cloth and just use that to dust wood. But the elves have this solution thing they put in the water and a specific way of dusting so that the furniture doesn't get damaged.

I picked up quickly though.

I've also been studying extra-hard with Glaewron because I have realized that I am, in essence, another mouth to feed and I feel very bad; I'm not even paying rent. And while my work will never be at the same level as an elves, I can still contribute; they can sell my extracts in the markets and when human guests come, Celegeth suggested they might be more comfortable were they treated by another mortal (I agree a little bit; I have more faith in elvish skill but they can be unintentionally intimidating. I certainly wouldn't want one giving me a physical).

After my little cry (which I am so hugely embarrassed about) Erestor gave me a little book of poetry that had both Sindarin and Westron translations. He said it was nothing much but it may help me learn, and that he had two copies so I could keep it.

I almost hugged him but I just thanked him instead.

**Day One Hundred and Six**

Nimhel dragged me to the kitchens and placed me in the care of an ellon named Ruinir, having decided it's high time I learned to cook; apparently they are preparing for a time when I may not be in elvish company, as all the cooks here are males.

I didn't manage to deal with anything that looked vaguely alive, but I've always had some minor competence in the kitchen (I never, unlike my sister, burned _pasta_). So I did OK.

Barely.

But hey, at least didn't burn anything down.

**Day One Hundred and Eight**

I met Bilbo today- sorry, _Bilba_.

He is very, very old. But he is hardly hindered by his age. Nimhel introduced me to him, thinking I might appreciate some mortal company.

We had a nice conversation and some tea.

He is very amusing. He tells stories well.

**Day One Hundred and Nine**

Lindir asked that I sing something in class today. Erestor coughed and quickly changed the subject.

I think Lindir understood why. I heard the two of them discussing a cat at lunch.

**Day One Hundred and Eleven**

I worked in the kitchens today. It took me six tries, but I managed to make an onion soup even _he_ admitted was 'very good, for a mortal pallet'.

The problem was that these elves use recipes calling for _a little_ salt and _two or three pinches_ of rosemary, and not exact measurements. But now that I have figured out the approximations of each, I can cook a few things relatively well. Ruinir said that once a Dúnedain turns up, I would cook whatever I had learned for them.

I tried not to read too much into that statement.

**Day One Hundred and Twelve**

Glaewron gave me a few golden coins today and said they were my share from the extracts. I told him that there was no way I could accept it, but he was very insistent.

Nimhel has made me a small leather wallet to keep them in. I was very thankful. I keep it with my pajamas and Mildburg's dress.

**Day One Hundred and Fourteen**

Lýthril and Erestor came to blows again- well, not really. They are entirely to snarky around each other, however. I don't even know what it was about, but Glorfindel who was witnessing this, certainly did nothing to help. I think he was goading them.

Eventually I just found Lindir and listened to him sing something. It sounded very sad but pretty.

**Day One Hundred and Eighteen**

Elladan stopped by me elvish class today. He didn't do much; he just sort of snickered whenever I made a bad pun.

**Day One Hundred and Twenty**

I successfully made Onion soup with absolutely no help today!

And Elrond's sons, the only elves who don't seem to see me as completely inept due to my mortality, tried it and told me it was very good, even better than some soups they had tried made by women who had cooked for years. I doubted that last bit but t was quite good, if I don;t say so myself.

I am learning many other recipes as well. I enjoy cooking; not as much as I enjoy working with Glaewron, but still, it's fun.

**Day One Hundred and Twenty Two**

Glorfindel expanded on some topics in the Silmarillion today. We had a long discussion about the history of Gondor. He said that, when Aragorn gets back, he'll have him talk to me.

I answered some of his questions about Earth. I tried to explain our history, but it's hard because I now realize I have no real starting point.

I've been thinking...if this is real, than so is Eru and so are the Valar. My dad was, in name, christian and my mother was a nonpracticing Jew, so religion was never a huge part of my life. So this is deeply bizarre. It's like having your world view flipped.

**Day One Hundred and Twenty Four**

Guess who's back?

I was expecting Gorvon to be gone longer than forty-eight days, but he said that tomorrow he's riding off towards Rohan and his home and that will take a god few months, so he wanted to say hello to me before. He promises to be back soon, however. Well, as soon as possible.

I was unreasonably happy to see him.

I talked to him about my world today, and everything I learned (he said that my onion soup was marvelous but my salmon pie could use some work). Most of the time he listened attentively but every so often he'd g into a _mood_, and be all sigh-y and head shake-y.

I sill have no idea what to make of him, but oh, well. He is who he is. And I think that he may be the closest friend I have here.

**Please review; I love every sort of review! I can even take the heat of flames. I just love opinions on my work.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR.

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! There is a giant time-skip in this chapter and another little one, sorry if it's jarring. But hey, at least you won't have to wait a hundred some odd days for Gorvon to show up! (according to general consensus, he is liked.)

Also, the stories tone will be changing a little; I won;t have time for certain aspects of I once things get good, so I'm throwing it in now.

Chapter Seven

**Day Two Hundred and Three**

Before I begin- I AM SO SORRY FOR NEGLECTING YOU FOR THIS LONG!

Here's what happened, you see; I lost you, and by the time I found you I was so used to not writing in you that I put it off and put it off until it just slipped my mind completely...

I am so, _so_ sorry. I will never lose you again. Ever. I promise.

To be honest, I don't know what to write. I suppose my life here in Rivendell has settled int a nice routine.

I wake up around eight in the morning, give or take. Then I get to bath and brush my teeth and get all nice and clean; I almost always ware the ribbon Rose gave me. I have some new dresses now, a red one and a beige one, which were tailored for me since the weather became freezing. It's now the twenty-seventh of March, so spring is just beginning.

After I'm ready I go to breakfast, which I usually eat with Glaewron before we go to work in his lab. Sometimes I work with Celegeth instead, and she has been teaching me a great deal about healing. I am still far from being an expert, but I am on a steady learning curve.

After that I usually have my Sindarin lesson. Erestor says I am learning at a good rate. I guess I have little choice in the matter. I need to know this language to function here.

I then go to the kitchens and Ruinir will let me watch him cook, and will show me certain tips and tricks. I am still not doing as well as I would like, but certain dishes (mostly soups) I have grown quite good at. Ruinir says that if I stick to it and just work hard, I will be able to cooks someday. I hope he's right; this is the kind of place where cooking is an essential skill for women.

After that comes lunch, which I eat with Nimhel and Lýthril, usually, and then come the chores. I am a regular part of the cleaning crew as I am of very little use in other chores, ones that involve fixing things and the like. I mostly wash clothing and floors. I can't manage the speed or efficiency of an elf but it makes me feel like I am at least _trying_ to earn my keep.

Usually my evenings are random. I sometimes have tea with Bilba or walk with Glorfindel, who teaches me about history and listens to my stories patiently. I also listen to Lindir singing, which is always fun. As it turns out, not only can I not sing, but any musical instrument given to me is doomed to a tragic end (my first few gold coins went to repairing a loot. Lindir wanted to forget it but I insisted). Anything at all artistic usually falls flat, to be honest.

Dinner is always a pleasant affair and I usually go with whoever I was with before.

I only sometimes go to the hall of fire. Something about that place makes me thing of home, and that always makes me a bit sad. But when I do go it's nice for a while. I only understand a few of the songs, but they sound just as pretty when I have no clue what they're saying.

Whenever a Dúnedain stops in, I make a point to get to know them. Gorvon has not been back yet (I heard from Baradir that he is rangering left, right, and center these days, but plans on returning in the near to distant future. So specific, he is.) but he did at one point send me a pair of legit ranger gloves, made of some soft skin and lined with fur; I ware them whenever it's cold. I have, however, seen many of the Dúnedain I met at Aithron's party. They make a point of trying my cooking and asking about my progress in healing. I make a point to ask them about everything.

I told Erestor that they are officially my favorite people in all of Middle Earth; he told Aragorn and the future king has considerably warmed up to me. Not that he's ever here for any length of time, but when he is he makes a point of joining my walks with Glorfindel and answering my questions. But, as I said, he's usually off with Gandalf.

Speaking of the old wizard, it's been some time since I've seen him. He's off doing important things, I know. Still. You'd think my case would have caused him more worry, but I guess in the grand scheme of things it's just a peculiarity.

I have done whatever I can to prepare myself for everything that is to come; but seeing as I still don't know what to divulge, it's difficult.

I am feeling a little under the weather. That is why I have so much time to write. Celegeth gave me a jar of scented oil that, apparently, has medicinal properties if inhaled. I still don't feel to well and am just lying down today, taking it easy.

**Day Two Hundred and Four**

Feeling considerably worse.

I slept until ten and when Nimhel came to see if I wanted breakfast, I was practically green in the face. All I could stomach was a peach. She seemed very worried, but I told her it was probably just a passing virus. She had Celegeth come see me anyways.

Celegeth just looked worried and sighed and nodded a lot. She gave me a small..._elixir_ (for lack of a better word) and it tasted horribly biter, but I feel a little less uneasy now.

**Day Two Hundred and Four, later**

I lied. I think I just threw up half of my intestines.

**Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Six**

Once again, sorry for neglecting you.

These past few weeks have been hell. I have been oozing out of every place it's possible to ooze from. Yes. Literally.

I have spent my days in the bathroom, sitting in a warm tub in my shift. The water needs frequent replacement, as it gets cold and noticeably disgusting. Let me tell you, you don't know the meaning of the word _embarrassing _until you're soaking in your own filth in front of a bunch of elves.

I have been on a strict regimen of medicines, fresh fruit, and only Ruinir prepares my food to make sure that it is cooked exactly as it must be to cater to human well-being, or something along those lines.

Now that I am slightly better (less leaky) I am allowed to stay in bed all day. Elrond came to visit, being the best healer in like, ever, or something along those lines. He told me that I was probably exposed to something that has died out by my time and I have no immunity to. He said that may also be what happened at Mildburg's, to a lesser degree.

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty**

I am finally feeling better. I am still a little weak and have yet to be returned to the cleaning schedule or my cooking lessons, but I can go outside a little, and practice my Sindarin. The break has helped in some ways and hindered in others, but I am relatively on track.

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty One**

I was sitting in the garden today, reading over the poetry book. It's an odd process; I have to read the poem over in Sindarin, then in Westron to understand it better, and then again in Sindarin to better grasp it. But in the end I like the way it sounds.

I knew I must have looked pathetic; my color still hasn't returned and I've lost more weight then I would like (I never have looked good when I was thin). My hair was a little greasy and braided back and I was in my beige dress, with a white and green shawl wrapped around me like an old lady. I wasn't going to wear it but Celegeth insisted and she kind of scares me.

Anyways, I was sitting around, minding my business, when I heard footsteps. I knew it had to be a human; elves and hobbits are much quieter. So I looked up and wondered if Carathor was back, because I knew he was doubling around this way after heading back from Gondor, but when I looked up I realized it was none other than, and I suppose you can guess by now who, Gorvon!

I was very happy to see him; it _has_ been a while and I guess I missed him.

He smiled when he saw me, but a he got a better look his expression faded. The moment he reached me, he asked "Candes, are you well?"

"Gorvon! It is so good to see you! I hear from Baradir that you have been riding around half of Middle Earth!"

Yes, I know, bad distraction. So sue me. It's not like it worked.

"Candes, are you ill?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"I am quite alright, Gorvon. I was a little sick but am now on the mend."

"You are very pale."

"I am fine."

"And you've lost weight."

I could tell he would not budge on this. I have learned he can be very broody and serious and stubborn. So I sighed and patted the bench next to me, and he sat down.

"Lord Elrond speculates that some diseases have died out by my time, so I am not immune to them. One hit and I got a little-" I saw his expression then, and rolled my eyes "_very_ sick. But the elves have taken good care of me and I am getting better. I am almost as good as new."

He raised an eyebrow in speculation.

"Look, Gorvon, these past weeks I have had to bare all to the elves- yes, _all_. It was very humiliating and painful and I was sick on top of the embarrassment, so I don't want to think about it. Alright?"

He sighed and nodded, but I think he brought it up later with one of the elves I am closer to.

"So," I said. I realized then and there that I did not know what to say to him. I mean, on the road we only really talked about Westron. And last time I saw him we spoke briefly about a number of things that just so happened to come up.

"How do you like the gloves I sent?" he asked suddenly.

"They are amazing. Very warm and soft. Thank you, by the way."

"It is the least I could do after..." I knew he was thinking about the whole left-me-to-be-slave-driven thing. So I just patted his arm. He smiled at me. I smiled at him. It was all very touching in a hallmark kind of way.

And then, clearly uncomfortable with our deep bonding friendship moment, he launched into a story of where he had been up to. He told me all about Rohan and Gondor and why it had taken him so long to head back. He claims that he wanted to check on me; that made me stupidly happy. I mean, I really shouldn't be this thrilled I have friends. It's not like I never had them before or anything like that.

We stayed out talking (I eventually began to ask questions and the like) until Glorfindel found us and told us we'd best head in for dinner, and that I really shouldn't stay out for to long. Gorvon looked very guilty then but Glorfindel just made a quick save; something about how I was only _almost_ out for to long. It would have sounded ridiculous from anyone else but that ellon is very believable.

After dinner Gorvon went to the Hall of Fire and I came back here to sleep. I am very tired.

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty Two**

I spent today with Gorvon.

I asked about the Dúnedain and Arnor and rangers, and he seemed all to thrilled to answer me. He asked me what I had been up to, other than being ill, and I told him about how I was working with Celegeth and Glaewron to study healing and it was widely agreed among the Dúnedain and Bilba that I made some of the best onion soup in Middle Earth, especially since I "came up with" the idea to melt cheese over it (hey, it's not like I _said_ I invented it. It was just implied. Heavily.) He said that once I was allowed to cook again he'd be sure to try it. I warned him he might get roped in to tasting everything I cooked, and that he'd best be careful. He shook his head and laughed.

I must say, when he isn't in serious-ranger-in-the-woods mode he is very sociable.

He helped me with my Sindarin a little and then, once he chose to breach the subject, helped me think of reasons why I might be here. We couldn't think of any food ones.

But he did say this; "Candes, sometimes we do not see the reason for some things, but we must accept that they have happened and do what we can. I think you have done so."

I felt proud.

He's leaving tomorrow but promised to be back within the next two months, as he was trying to meet his father here for the latter birthday. I am excited to meet this Gorven. One must be a curious character to raise that man.

**Day Two Hundred Thirty Three**

Gorvon just left. We didn't have a sentimental goodbye. I just sort of waved to him.

Celegeth told me that I would be back to full health within the next two weeks. I am glad.

Oh, and I saw Ruinir melt cheese over some onion soup. I feel more pleased than I probably have the right to be.

**Day Two Hundred Thirty Nine**

I am back on my cleaning schedule.

I am not sure if I mentioned this, but I always wear Mildburg's dress when I'm cleaning. I would have to spoil any of my other ones

**Day Two Hundred and Forty Three**

I have passed the ultimate test of health, I am back in the kitchens.

A secluded, lonely part of the kitchens, but still.

000

**Sorry for another short chapter. I wanted to establish location and all the like.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! And thank you for the offers to beta, but I have a beta already. Sometimes she misses some little typo's, but we're working on it.

Also, if anyone enjoys designing cover-art, I was thinking this story could use something less simplistic. If you're interested, just PM me or mention it in a review.

Chapter Eight

**Day Two Hundred Forty Four**

I have perfected my chowder recipe. I am not a fan of chowder, but I like that I can cook it.

**Day Two Hundred and Forty Six**

I managed a full conversation in Sindarin today; and it wasn't about mushrooms! It was about Gondor.

Erestor was impressed and even Glorfindel didn't smirk so much when I told him.

In other news, Ruinir, tired of my aversion to raw meat, had me skin and butcher a rabbit. He told me that should I ever marry, I would not be able to expect my family to live off of liquids.

I only roasted the rabbit today. I wanted to burn it a little on the edges, but Ruinir just gave me the _you are crazy_ look.

I suppose only Gorvon understands me.

**Day Two Hundred and Forty Seven**

Bilba and I had a long talk about the shire today. It was fascinating.

I think he may suspect something is up with me. Every so often he gives me odd looks or drops a random question that is oddly out-of-place. Today, for instance, while talking about tea, he asked me if my mother made tea as the Rohirrim do. I went with my 'sudden bout of amnesia' routine, which I am happy to say is better than it used to be.

He _almost_ seemed convinced.

**Day Two Hundred and Fifty**

These big milestones always unnerve me.

It has been over half a year since I came here. I have made friends (and an enemy), learned languages, new skills...

But I miss my family. I don't know if I'll ever see them again. I don't think I will. I mean, I don't even know how I got here; I think there must have been some problem with space and time that won't happen again. I'm stuck here and there's nothing I can do.

I ended up spending the day in the garden. Around noon, Lýthril came out with a few peaches and biscuits and just sat with me quietly.

It was nice.

She's not actually as bad as you'd think, if you based your opinion off Erestor's beliefs.

**Day Two Hundred and Fifty Two**

I had a lovely day today. I did not miss a single vocab word in my Sindarin lesson (though I misplaced a few pronouns), I managed to make a tasty (Bilba's judgment, not mine) dish with my newly acquired rabbit-chopping skills, finished my chores quickly, and Glorfindel and Lindir both sang a song about Gondolin that made me tear up in the best kind of way.

It is days like this that make me think less of my family and friends and be a bit happy that I am here. But then I become sad because I shouldn't be happy. Does that make sense?

**Day Two Hundred and Fifty Three**

I started my period today. It was only awkward because I had particularly bad cramps and Glaewron thought I might be ill and I had to bluff because admitting you are on your period to an elf is one thing, but to a male elf is another entirely.

He seems to be used to me being weird because he eventually let it go.

Oh, and Halbarad got here today, but is leaving tomorrow. I like him; both him and his son are so nice and

**Day Two Hundred and Fifty Three, Later**

Sorry about just leaving you.

I just remembered. Halbarad dies.

Him and who knows how many other Dúnedain? I am fairly certain that none in Rivendell will die, and I haven't met anyone who will for certain, but all of the Dúnedain are fair game. They aren't even mentioned in the books, so...

Oh, god, what if Gorvon dies? He can't; he simply _cannot_.

But Halbarad _does_...and I _know that_. I know for certain someone's tragic fate. And I can't even say anything, because who know what that might change? I know the downfall of Sauron must be accomplished and that it was a hard task, and I don't even know _how_ Halbarad dies, so...

being in Middle Earth should not be this difficult! It isn't fair that it is. I expected- well, I didn't _expect_ this whole mess, but I knew that language barriers and cultural differences would be a problem, but I should not have to deal with this! I never _asked_ to be here and, quite frankly, I don't want to be. Not if it means this...

**Day Two Hundred and Fifty Six**

I have been far to upset to write much lately. I am sorry for neglecting you.

I feel so useless. I can't do anything to stop the death of one of my friends. I can't do _anything_. And the worst bit s I keep sitting around feeling sorry for myself when really, I have much more things to worry about. Like Halbarad dying.

He left a few days ago and told me that while he wasn't sure about Gorvon, Gor_ven_ was planning on turning up soon. It's only been about a month, so I wonder how that schedule will work out...

but that's not the point.

The point is that I have little choice but to sit around and wait for my friends to die.

**Day Two Hundred and Sixty**

I feel a bit better.

I have come to the conclusion that Sauron's defeat will end up sparing thousands of lives, and that it is for the best I don't change anything that could in some way impact this.

It doesn't make me feel much better about Halbarad, but at least I was able to function properly today.

I have managed to cook a full meal; salad (which, okay, was just lettuce and tomatoes), onion soup (it is my specialty. And it's the easiest for me to make), and stewed rabbit. Bilba said I was improving nicely but could go easier on the spices with the rabbit.

Ruinir also began teaching me the basics of pastries so that I can make pies and deserts.

I never much liked cooking back home, but I find that the results are often worth the work now.

**Day Two-Hundred and Sixty One**

I attempted to garden today.

I failed.

Celegeth has told me to stick to basic human healing. She has reverted right back to treating me like a puppy.

Sheesh, ruin three flowerbeds and lose all your respect.

**Day Two Hundred and Sixty Two**

Glaewron thought me how to make a paste that helps seal up wounds.

It proved very useful while I sliced my finger open while learning how to butcher cows.

I wish it didn't smell quite so potent.

Also, more elves than I thought are proficient enough in Westron to know what that one word means. They all looked very shocked when I screamed it after cutting my finger.

**Day Two Hundred and Sixty Three**

Erestor had a long talk with me about using certain types of language and how dialects and vocabularies can paint the image of who you are in society, so I ought to stick mostly to words he or Gorvon or another elf taught me.

Glorfindel explained that some words imply more than just their literal meaning and I should always understand the connotations of what I'm saying.

Nimhel pulled me aside to ask if, perhaps, I was still on my period and therefore had less impulse control.

Everyone needs to get their panties out of a twist.

It's a freaking word.

**Day two hundred and Sixty Four**

I got to sleep in today. It was nice.

Not much else happened.

**Day Two Hundred and Sixty Eight**

Guess who I just met?

Gorven!

He looks exactly like his son, except older and with laugh lines.

I was cleaning a hallway floor, when I heard heavy boots behind me. I knew it had to be a Dúnedain, and since most of them have at least heard about me (whenever I meet one they say something like _you're the odd blonde woman who has Gorvon so utterly confused!_) I turned around and smiled.

I knew immediately he was Gorven, because, as I mentioned, him and Gorvon were very alike.

"You must be Candes," he said, smiling. He's much less serious than his son.

"And I am sure you are Gorven."

I stood up and tucked my dusting rag into my apron pocket.

"Yes, I am. It is nice to meet you after hearing so much about you from my son."

I was a little worried then, because I knew the sort of things Gorvon would say about me.

"I hope you took his every word about me with a grain of salt."

He laughed.

"Do not worry, he has said only good things."

I raised my eyebrows at that.

"Mostly good things," he revised, "But he is quite fond of you."

"I am glad to hear that," I said. And I _was_ glad to hear it. I like Gorvon more that I thought I would. Yes, he is brooding and serious and has moods that change like the wind, but he is nice and took care of me, a perfect stranger, for who knows how long.

Gorven paused for a moment, then said I a low voice, "Candes, I hope you do not mind, but... me and my son are open and honest with each other. He has told me your... well, your _real_ story."

that caught me off guard.

"He- um, he did? oh. That's- well, expected, I-"

"It is quite a strange tale. But if my son, along with Lord Elrond, Mithrandir, and Aragorn all believe you, then so do I." he seemed to notice that things were a little weird- not awkward, but strange, he changed the subject.

"I must go speak to Lord Elrond, but I hope to see you at dinner."

"You will. I never miss a meal."

He laughed and walked off.

I finished polishing the floor.

**Day Two Hundred and Sixty Eight, Night**

I ate with Bilba and Gorven. The two are, apparently, friends.

I heard a lot of funny stories about Gorvon. That man has the most interesting encounters with hogs.

Gorven got roped into sitting in with Bilba on a 'food tasting'; it's hard to find elven volunteers since they are so damn _elvish_ with their food.

**Day Two Hundred and Sixty Nine**

Gorven has agreed that my onion soup is on par with any chef he has ever encountered, if not better than. Ruinir chastised me for not making my chowder, but I wanted to make sure Gorven was at least a little biased about my cooking before trying the rest of it.

He thought my stewed rabbit was a little gammy, but very good, and that my beef pies could use a little less spices and a little more cooking, but he enjoyed the meal.

He even asked for the onion soup recipe, but I told him that was a secret I would never divulge, even if Lord Elrond himself asked me. He laughed and said he would have to get me married to Gorvon then, so he could have it whenever he wished. I just laughed and rolled my eyes and maybe sort of blushed a little. It's not everyday that someone implies you'd make a good daughter-in-law, even if only for soup.

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy**

Gorven told me that he plans on staying for a little while longer, as Gorvon will show up any day now and they will celebrate his birthday in five days. I tried to work out my birthday here. It's October fifth so I must have missed it this go-round. It'll be on day four hundred exactly.

**Day Two Hundred an Seventy One**

I got the courage to ask Gorven what Gorvon has said about me.

He paused and then told me this:

"He has not spoken too much about you, and what he has said has changed over time. But he has told me you are somewhat outspoken, if too much at times, have no boundaries, but seem to have only good intentions and can be very nice to be around, now that he understands you."

I thought on that for a while.

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Two**

Gorvon returned today.

I saw him when he entered the dining hall for lunch. I saw him from across the room and he saw me, and I just broke into a smile, which he returned. We stood there for a moment, and I wondered if I should approach him, but then Gorven came in and they did their reunion thing and I went back to cooking.

I'll speak to him later.

I think I'll mention hogs.

000

**Thank you for reading. I have a little request- if you alerted this story, _please, please, please_ review!**

**Reviews are really helpful in getting an idea of what the reader wants. Say you like a character, or dislike a certain aspect of the story, or want something to be cleared up, if you leave a review telling me that, I can work with it.**

**But even short reviews are helpful. They encourage me to write. So even if you don't have time for long concrit, a sentence or two is better than none.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thank you for all the reviews!

One or two reviewers pointed out some similarities between this story and boz4pm's _Don't Panic_. I started this story and had it mostly planned out before reading _DP_, but I am painfully aware of their similarities. While I am not going to completely change the course of the story, I _am_ taking steps to make sure that the style, characters, and overall feel and pacing of the stories remain completely different.

I enjoy boz4pm's work and respect her as an author, and I assure you I am not trying to rip her off. I think that once I get past the Rivendell stage of this adventure (and fear not, she isn't a tenth walker) the differences in plot will become much more apparent.

Chapter Nine

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Two, Night**

I had a very nice night.

After saying his hello to his father (which was very sweet and adorable to watch. I can tell they have a good relationship) Gorvon approached me.

We just smiled at each other again, and I suddenly had the urge to hug him. I didn't, because that might be considered inappropriate here. But I just... wanted to. It was strange.

"Hello," I said, breaking the moment before it got awkward.

"Hello," he responded.

Such good conversationalists, the two of us.

"I met your father," I told him, which of course was the most ridiculous thing to say, so I added "He had some very interesting stories about you."

The color drained from his face; it was truly comic to see.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I did not know you were such a fan of roast ham." He glared at me and I smiled wider. Eventually he cracked a smile.

"You cannot blame me; roast ham is delicious." he must have had this conversation many a time, because he seemed to be resigned to it. I decided not to torment him too much.

"Personally, I prefer rabbit."

"You burn it."

"It tastes better that way!"

"And what do the elves think of this strange taste of yours?" he raised an eyebrow, probably glad that he was now making fun of me. I put my hands on my hips and prepared to get in his face.

"Nothing; they are all to awed by my amazing soup-making skills that they don't say a word." that was a lie, of course. Ruinir has warned me that if a try to burn a perfectly good rabbit again he will exile me to butcher duty.

"Ah, yes, your onion soup. Every single Dúnedain seems to sing its praises. Even father likes it."

And here things got a little weird for me. Because I remembered the last conversation I had with Gorven about the soup and how he was all _marry Gorvon so I can eat_ and I was all _ha, ha, that's so weird. _But I remembered it when he mentioned my soup.

So it was a bit internally weird.

I just said "You'll understand once I make it for you."

He smiled.

Then Gorven came over and we all ate dinner.

I skipped out on the hall of fire and came to write in you. I figured the Gorv's (aren't I so clever with nicknames?) needed some father/son time.

Besides, chicken makes me sleepy.

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Three**

Gorvon officially joined my Onion soup fan-club (though he agrees that I need to work on my other recipes. Jerk).

Ruinir rolled his eyes and muttered something about mortals and onion soup.

He's just jealous.

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Four**

I spent the day with Gorvon, because I knew him and his father were going hunting tomorrow for the latter's birthday. He updated me on all of his rangering and I told him of my humdrum life here; my lack of any form of artistic skill, my steadily improving healing skills, and my cooking prows.

He agreed with Ruinir that I will need to be able to make more than just soups and chowder (though he admits it is very good soup and chowder). But he can't really help me with my cooking, as his abilities in that area extend to putting an animal on a stick and roasting it over a fire until it looks ready.

I told him I liked his cooking and he just chuckled and made fun of my penchant for burnt rabbit.

I really don't know why I tolerate him sometimes. I give him a compliment and he laughs at me.

Then he said, "Oh, Candes, don't pout. It makes me feel bad."

"You should feel bad."

He just sighed, but I could tell he wanted to laugh.

"Stop laughing! I don't run around making fun of you."

"Oh, I am sure that diary of your is filled with very snarky comments about me."

I was stupidly shocked. I mean, of _course_ he knew I had a diary. He's seen me write in you. Hell, he's seen me write in you about _him_.

I just scoffed and said "Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh, no, I am sure that you have the most interesting things written in there; I would pay good money to see what is written in it, were it in a language I spoke."

"Reading ladies diaries is impolite," I told him.

"But I would be reading _your_ diary."

I just gaped at him as he smirk at me. Then I swatted his arm.

He just laughed and changed the subject.

He's a jerk, but what can I say? I like the guy.

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Five**

The Gorv's (see? I did it again. So clever) are on their hunting trip. Personally, I don;t see the appeal, especially since they hunt all the time in the wild. But apparently it's different when it's for sport and not survival, and you're not going to stick whatever you catch on a twig to roast it over a fire.

I spent the day bathing and prettifying myself, because every girl needs to be pampered every so often. I finished up my chores and then went to work with Glaewron, who taught me how to make a sort of elvish vapo-rub. Then an elleth named Eregeth who I sort-of-kind-of-not-really know showed me how to make perfume. Now I smell like roses and have a pretty bottle.

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Five, Night**

The Gorv's are back (no, I will not get tied of that). After much-needed baths they came down for an early diner, and I was recruited to make onion soup. I swear,with the reaction this soup is getting I might as well be Martha Stewart. I wasn't allowed to make anything else, though.

I ate with them and listened to them talk about their home and friends and family. It was nice, but it reminded me of my family... my little sister, my mom, my dad... we had this tradition where we could do whatever we wanted on out birthdays, but only _after_ we ate lunch with the family. I miss that.

Gorvon must have noticed I was a little sad, because he asked if I was alright. I just smiled and said "Your home sounds really nice." which it did.

"Someday we will take you to visit." Gorven said this, both causally and not so causally.

"I will hold you to that." was all I cold think to say.

He just sort of smirked and then began telling more hog stories about his son, and Gorvon couldn't even protest because it was his fathers birthday.

He just shook his head and smiled at me.

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Six**

Gorven left today, but Gorvon decided to stay another day just to rest up before heading back home for a while.

We talked a bit about what was going to happen- well, in as much detail as I would allow myself, which wasn't much.

"Lord Elrond wants to keep an eye on you, so you'll probably stay here until things take their course."

"That wont be for a while." was all I said.

I figure I'll probably stay here until the war is over, which is in a couple hundred more days. Then... who knows? I'll probably go to Gondor or Rohan and live there for a while. Maybe I'll even stay with the Dúnedain for a little. Or I'll just rot here in Rivendell.

He just nodded and looked very somber. I wanted to tell him to cheer up, that it would all turn out okay in the end, but I knew I couldn't.

I just patted his shoulder.

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Seven**

Gorvon left today. I told him to have fun at home and to have a safe trip. He smiled and told me to work on my cooking.

We laughed for a second, but then I faltered. He was all, "Candes, are you well?"

And then I just felt really, really thankful to him. For finding me, for taking me to Mildburg's where I was (relatively) taken care of, for bringing me here... and for just being my friend, despite everything. I wanted to tell him this and I did, but it came out sounding unbelievably cheesy and I thought he would laugh at me, but he didn't.

He hugged me.

It was my first hug from anyone in Middle Earth.

It felt nice.

I miss him.

ooo

please review! Like I said, it really helps me figure out what aspects readers like and dislike.

Pleasedon'thatemefortheblatantshipping Ireallycan'thelpmyself.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for all of the reviews! They are greatly appreciated. To be honest, I was almost afraid to begin he more obvious Gorvon/Candes parts of this story, for fear of scaring away the non-shippers. So I am truly glad you all seem to like it. And for a shipping name, I go with Can-von.

Chapter Ten

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Eight**

I ate lunch with Glorfindel and Erestor.

Glorfindel said, "So, you and Gorvon are close."

I just gave him an odd look and was all "Um, yes?"

he just smirked and nodded and went back to eating.

I shot Erestor a confused _please explain your weirdo friend_ look but he just smiled and told me to work on my parenthetical expressions.

I don't think I even know what those are.

**Day Two Hundred and Seventy Eight, Later**

Oh, god. He was implying I liked Gorvon, wasn't he?

How could he think that? I mean, yes, I like him, but not _romantically_!

Not that there's anything _wrong_ with Gorvon, but... he's...

He's Gorvon. That's reason enough.

**Day Two Hundred and Twenty Eight, even later**

But even if I did like him in that way, he's twenty-four years older than me, from another world, and probably not interested in me like that either. All valid reasons not to chance anything.

**Day Two Hundred and Twenty Eight, even later than that**

Not that I _would_ chance it. Because I don't want to. Really. I don't.

**Day Two Hundred and Twenty Nine**

Ate lunch with Bilba, as he doesn't read too much into my friendships with certain members of the opposite sex.

He definitely knows something is up, though. He gives me very piercing looks and _hm_s every so often. But he says nothing; he's even stopped dropping weird questions.

Well, almost stopped. He did wonder aloud if he had heard of any sort of amnesia that acted the way mine did.

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty**

Nimhel, Lýthril and I had a long session of girl talk. They spoke about marriage costumes and how to tell if a man was interested in you. I wanted to explain about the way things worked where I was from, but I'm not really supposed to know that.

I asked if the Celegeth and Glaewron thing was new. Lýthril just snorted and Nimhel explained that everyone but Glaewron had seen it coming for three centuries. But she was surprised I had picked up on it.

"Normally y- mortals, that is, are much less perceptive of people's emotions."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing." then she began humming and became fascinated with the trees.

As if I believe her.

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty One**

I practiced drawing today. Erestor said that I managed to very nicely capture the stillness and jagged angles of a rock.

I didn't tell him I was trying to sketch a butterfly.

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty Two**

Carathor showed up today.

I spoke to him about typical Dúnedain life. He told me my cooking was getting better and took interest in my healing work. He told me that he had confided in his wife and daughters about my condition (the one he's heard about me being from near-Rohan) and they felt for me and made me a very pretty silver scarf. I thanked him profusely and told him to pass it along.

I also asked Nimhel about proper gift receiving etiquette. She said it was nice to send something back, but everyone would understand perfectly if I did not.

But I felt guilty at that; it really is a stunning scarf, almost as lovely as anything the elves can make. So I asked Eregeth for some help and we mad three little bottles of perfume. The gift was approved by Nimhel and so I told Carathor to give it to his family with my thanks.

He told me they would love the gift.

He also gave me something else; while something he passed along from Gorvon.

It was jerky; rabbit jerky. And it was burnt. He also wrote a small note Carathor translated for me;

_The butcher was going to throw this away. But knowing both your taste for burned food and it's longevity, I thought you might appreciate it_.

I laughed. It was delicious jerky.

Ruinir still thinks I'm weird.

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty Five**

SUCCESS!

Ruinir officially approved of my Grete Pyes. A Grete Pye is a beef and chicken dish, with dates, prunes, cinnamon, saffron, and some other goodies all baked up. It's a mortal recipe so I was sure Ruinir would just have Bilba try it (Carathor left two days ago) but he tasted it himself, looked shocked, and then said "it is good."

I feel so proud.

He also told me that "I would be a cook yet!" and gave me a small recipe book of Gondorian, Rohirric, and Dúnedain recipes he wants me to learn.

I got started immediately.

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty Six**

I burnt my thumb making Tea for me and Bilba. Glaewron fixed it and I said thank you, but he was all "Thank yourself- I used one of your concoctions."

I grinned all day. Yes, it was a concoction he taught me, but I made something to help burns.

I have just realized I am becoming a housewife.

I am not sure how I feel about that.

**Day Two Hundred and Forty**

Officially banned from garden. Long story.

Basically, it _is_ physically possible to uproot half a carrot garden in three minutes.

000

**Sorry for the short chapter, but I wanted to upload this pretty soon.**

**Please review! I will love you forever.**

**Also, still looking for some cover art.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! Sorry this chapter is short, but I wanted to upload it before I go on vacation this weekend.

**Ahem** I am warning you now this chapter is a bit shiptastic. Sorry. I really can't hep it. Besides, later chapters have other things to focus on, other than shipping, so I'm getting that in now.

Chapter Eleven

**Day Two Hundred and Forty Three**

Nimhel and Lýthril have been turned to the dark side by Glorfindel.

I was minding my business, reading a book on healing Celegeth brought me, when they approached and sat near me. They were both quite, which wasn't to odd because elves are capable of being very serenely pensive, but they were both looking at me.

I gave them my best _why are you so weird_ look and then Nimhel smiled and asked "Do you know you love Gorvon?"

My response was very intelligent. I just stared blankly at her.

"What?"

She laughed and Lýthril sighed.

"Candes," Nimhel said, "elves are rather... perceptive, shall we say? And you are also our friend. We can tell that you are attracted to him and care deeply for him, which, combined, cause your love for him."

"I don't love him," I tried to explain, "I've known him for less than two hundred and fifty days."

"That is a long time for mortals, no?"

"And is that your excuse for denying your feeling?" Lýthril added.

"I am not denying anything. Denial would imply existence."

The two looked at each-other and shook their heads.

"Candes you are our friend. We want you to be happy, we will not judge you for having feelings for him."

"I hope you also won't judge me for not having feelings for him, because I don't."

They sighed again. In unison. It was creepy.

Then they left me to "_think on it because really, everyone could see it_."

Elves. Maybe they aren't as perceptive as everyone thinks.

**Day Two Hundred and Forty Three, later**

While at tea I asked Bilba "Bilba, you do not think I am in love with Gorvon, do you?"

He gave me an odd look and said "Aren't you?"

Hobbits aren't very perceptive either.

**Day Two Hundred and Forty Four**

Baradir showed up today. At lunch I asked him "Baradir, do _you_ think I am in love with Gorvon?"

he shook his head and gave me an odd look. I was about to thank him but then he said, with a mean smirk, "I _know _you are."

"Why would you think that?! Why does _everyone _think that?!" I asked, admittedly rather dramatically.

"Would you like an essay or a simple list?"

I just sighed and lay my head in my hands.

"A list would be nice," I muttered.

So he _made one_. I am not kidding. He went around Rivendell to all of my friends and acquaintances and COMPILLED A LIST. And it gets worse; Erestor caught me struggling through it (because my reading skills are, okay, sub-par), and HELPED ME READ IT. He knew what it was. He agreed with certain points on it. I hate him a little.

**Baradir's List of Why Everyone Thinks Candes Loves Gorvon**

-Candes asks questions about Gorvon's life and family

-Candes receives gifts from Gorvon with extreme happiness.

-Candes seems more proud when Gorvon compliments her cooking than when another does.

-Candes blushed at the implication that she would make a good daughter-in-law

-Candes is always excessively happy when Gorvon shows up- more than any other Dúnedain

-Candes seems to hold Gorvon's opinion in high regard.

-Candes goes out of her way to comfort Gorvon when he seems to be feeling sad or guilty

These are all easily explained by the fact that he's the one who found me and that he is a good friend of mine. They can. All of them.

Well, maybe not some of them. But I am sure those one's have other reasons.

**Day Two Hundred and Forty Five**

I had a dream where I was talking to Gorvon but we were being attacked by paper planes made of Baradir's list.

I was in a very bad mood this morning.

Nimhel, of course, misinterpreted the situation and said, "Do not feel sad, Candes, we all think he loves you to."

I have been in a catatonic state in my bedroom ever since.

Gorvon _can't_ love me; he doesn't. No way, Jose.

The weirdest thing just happened; for some reason the thought that Gorvon doesn't love me is... painful. It must just be because I value his opinion so much... but it hurts really badly for it to be that.

What is going on here?

I think I need to be catatonic for a little while longer.

**Day Two Hundred and Forty Six**

After a day of being curled up under the covers of my bed in a fetal position, I have come to a conclusion.

It was not easy to come to, but after examining the evidence in every light, and then sitting and thinking long and hard with myself, I have realized something I really would rather not realize.

I _do_ love Gorvon.

I know what you're thinking, diary; you're thinking _no, no way. That is impossible_.

But aside from just Baradir's list, I have extra knowledge; my feelings. Like how I worry about him when he's off doing god knows what. And how he's always the person who's name I look out for in stories. And how I don't think I could ever love someone who wouldn't let me burn rabbit.

And... I could live with loving him. If Nimhel weren't so utterly wrong.

You see, I have every reason to love Gorvon. He's nice (mostly). He's smart. He's brave and funny and compassionate. Now that I've realize I do, unfortunately, love him, I can think of a million more reasons.

But why would he love me? I'm a good healer and cook (well, sort of), and I'm pretty, for a mortal. And... yep. That's it. I'm not very smart, or creative, and I sure as hell haven't been very nice to him. It's enough of a stretch that he's my friend.

He doesn't love me, and maybe that's why it's taken me this long to realize I love him.

God, fuck my life.

**000**

**Please review! It means a lot to me**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews, they make my day. And when my day is made, I write more. And when I write more, you get faster updates.

**Also, I noticed that I completely messed up my numbers. So this chapter with start at day 311, just for convenience sake. Sorry about that. Human error. Whoops.**

Chapter 12

**Day Three Hundred and Eleven**

Baradir left today, but before he went he pulled me aside and told me something very weird.

"Candes," he said, "I have been good friends with Gorvon for years. And he has never been close with a girl or woman (and he is close to very few girls or women) and not, at some point, referred to her as his sister. I know he considers you two close, but he has not once compared you in any way to any form of relation."

I am not sure that helped any.

**Day Three Hundred and Twelve**

I didn't do much today, but I've been thinking a lot.

I've had three steady boyfriends in my life. The first was Vince Carmen, who was this totally sexy guy at my school. He was in my math class and was kind of dumb, and that was the only class I was at all competent in so he usually asked for my help. We went to homecoming together and the rest is history. We broke up when I heard that Becky Sharp liked him and got a little jealous and possessive. Hey, I was a sophomore, sue me. Anyways, he got sick of it and dumped me.

Then came Toby, who I was like, completely stupid around. He was the quarterback and I was head cheerleader, so everyone expected us to date. Anyways, I had this whole elaborate plan to sleep with him at Junior prom, but then this goth girl Lisa, who was like, his childhood friend or something, confessed to im and he dumped me. I guess for them it was like a romance movie, but let me tell you, it _sucks_ to be the wrong choice. I always feel sorry for the 'bitchy' girls in movies where the unpopular girl gets the guy. They're essentially trash for liking someone. Sorry, tangent.

Last came Brett, who I dumped only five weeks before turning up here. He was a graphics designer or something and I met him at the local coffee shop. He was sexy in a dirty hobo kind of way; he was always reading Hemingway and talking about the greater themes of life and once tricked me into a late night showing of East of Eden, which wasn't bad, but he had promised me we were going to see _Some Like it Hot_. I ended things with him because he made me feel dumb and that's something I feel enough already.

Here's the thing; with all of these guys, I thought I was in love. Even when I moved on I always looked back and said; "yeah, I _did_ love him." I really truly thought, all these years, that I would always have a piece of me that loved them.

Thinking of them in comparison to Gorvon, I want to laugh. It's like comparing Taco Bell meat to Steak. I can honestly say "Nope, not love. Never loved any of them, really."

and that's what makes this ll the worse.

**Day Three Hundred and Sixteen**

Gorvon is forty-seven, meaning he is twenty-five years older than me. I want this to gross me out, but it doesn't, because he's a Dúnedain and they have weird lifespans (another reason it won;t work and I need to get over him).

I mean, Aragorn in like, eighty.

In other news, Glaewron taught me how to make a remedy for the common cold that, when served with soup, almost guarantees health within a few days. And since I a the Queen of soups (with not just Onion, but chicken, tomato, goat, cheese, chicken, and vegetable soups masted), I feel very confident that I can help with colds.

**Day Three Hundred in Seventeen**

while my love life may be in shambles, my culinary skills are improving, and I have succeeded the impossible.

After many days of trial and error, of perfecting the pastry, combining spices to form a sauce, and testing out different cheeses, I have accomplished the thing to vanquish all cravings; I have recreated Pizza rolls.

**Day Three Hundred and Twenty**

I spent the day with Glaewron and Glorfindel, looking up old cures used back before the time of the ring. I kept on getting sidetracked by interesting facts and Glorfindel ended up just giving me a history lesson, with Glaewron looking mildly annoyed but amused.

It's good to have distractions, I think.

**Day Three Hundred and Twenty Two**

Erestor was the first of the elves to brave the pizza rolls, and he did it mostly to be nice because he had snapped at me for making a really, truly awful pun.

He said "These are good," but in such a tone of shock that it sort of canceled out the compliment.

**Day Three Hundred Twenty Five**

I sort of had a crying day; you know when homesickness just completely overtakes you.

I just lay in bed and sobbed. I think everyone knew to give me space.

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty**

Sorry, my little crying spell lasted longer than I thought.

I'm at lunch now, but I realized I haven't written in a while.

Oh, look, a Dúnedain just showed up-

oh. it's him.

More later.

000

**please review! If everyone who followed this story reviews, I would be the happiest author in the world. As it is, every review means a lot to me.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks so much for the reviews! I broke 100 for the first time and I am eternally grateful. By the way, this chapter was written to Florence + the Machine. Originally I was going to put this into the last chapter (hence the quick update), but I wanted to give you guys a cliffy.

Chapter 13

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty, Later**

Lunch was awkward. Well, for me it was. I just did my best to act normal.

Seeing him was... well, like seeing someone for the first time after realizing you're in love with them. I tried to be my normal self, but I think he noticed something off.

"Hi," I said, smiling.

"Hello."

We just sat awkwardly for a few moments.

"So how was Arnor?" I asked quickly, to end the what-do-we-do-now silence.

"It was nice, relaxing."

we sort of nodded. Then Nimhel came to my rescue and began a conversation about boots. I didn't talk much, and Gorvon kept glancing at me oddly. I just tried to avoid eye contact.

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty One**

Gorvon found me in the garden today.

"Candes, is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yes! Of course! Why wouldn't it be?" I was aware I sounded spastic. But I was also suddenly aware of the fact that he was, well, the guy I was in love with. And seeing him didn't make me realize how dumb I had been or that I wasn't in love with him after all; no, it just made me realize I loved him more than I thought.

"Nothing. I simply thought that... never mind. It is unimportant." oh, to know what he was about to say. It's been bothering me. What did he think? Is it about me being weird? I mean, he must notice I'm being weird. Oh, god, does he know?

He can't know. That's why I can't tell him. Because if he knew he would feel pressured to be my friend but he would be awkward and pity me and hate being around me... I don't want that! Even if he doesn't love me I don't want to ruin our friendship, because I want him in my life in some way, at the very least.

I managed to have an only slightly weird conversation with him. I just need to act normal.

Normal.

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty One, Later**

Acted decidedly not normal.

I was on my way to the kitchens when I ran into Gorvon. He was all "I was just thinking of going to have tea with Bilba, would you like to come?"

I said, "No, thank you, I was going to the kitchen to make these wonderful pizza roles I have perfected."

"Pizza rolls? What are those?"

And here's where I got weird.

"You've ever had them? Of course you haven't, but you _need_ to. They are amazing. Come with me!" and then I GRABBED HIS HAND AND DRAGGED HIM TO THE KITCHEN. Not even his arm, I was holding his _hand_. And the worst thing is I noticed what I was doing halfway down the hall and realized that I couldn't let go because, hello, _more_ awkward, so I just blushed like a nutcase.

When we go to the kitchens I showed him how to make the pizza rolls. He made jokes about them not being as secret as my onion soup. I told him that my onion soup was going to be my secret until the day I died.

Anyways, things got less normal.

Once the pizza rolls were ready, I picked one up and _held it up to him_. Like I was feeding a dog or something. I don't even know why I did it. Is my brain hard-wired to act all stupidly flirty when I'm in love or am I just spectacularly dumb?

Anyways, Gorvon seemed amused instead or creeped out (thank god), and just let me pop it in his mouth.

"These are excellent!" he said happily.

"Well, I owe you for the jerky. Thank you, by the way."

He shrugged. "I knew you would enjoy it."

We smiled at each other, but then I felt weird again.

"We should take some of these to Bilba," I said, gesturing to the pizza rolls.

"Oh, of course."

well, maybe things are back on track, at least a little.

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty Two**

Things far, far from the track.

I was acting weird around Gorvon again. Nothing major, but just general avoidance and strange conversations and being awkward and fidgety. And he got frustrated and said "Candes, I _know_ something is wrong. After everything, do you find it entirely fair to not tell me? Do you trust me that little?" And then he walked off.

God, I don't know what to do. I'm just sitting here moping. One second; Glorfindel just walked up.

..

well, that was an odd conversation.

It went like this.

Him: What's wrong?

Me: I love Gorvon.

Him: Why is that a problem?

Me: because I don't think he loves me back, so I decided not to say anything, but I've been acting weird and bipolar and he knows something is going on and now he's mad at me because he thinks I don't trust him.

Him: oh. Why don't you tell him?

Me: because then he'll be mad at me for being in love with him.

Him: so you would rather he be mad at you for something that's not true than for something that is?

Me: but... if I tell him then it will ruin our friendship.

Him: Not telling him might to, Candes.

Then he left me to think. About how elves are smart. And how Glorfindel was right. So.

Now I have to tell him.

Okay, I can do that.

I just need to tell him.

Is there a sudden lack of oxygen in the room?

No, I'm fine. I can tell him, it'll be easy.

Oh, who am I kidding. Wish me luck, I'm going to need it.

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty Two, Later**

Since I'm sure you're dying to know what happened, let me tell you.

I found Gorvon rather easily, he was in a different part of the gardens- do you know how extensive the gardens here are? Elves and their plants. Yeesh.

But anyways.

I sat beside him on the stone bench. He didn't look at me or say anything. So, I just started talking.

"Gorvon, I do trust you, more than anyone here. And you're right, I should tell you what is going on."

"Then why don't you?" he asked, looking at me. I was the one to turn away then.

"Because I'm afraid that if I tell you, you'll just feel awkward. And you won't want to be my friend anymore."

"I highly doubt that, Candes. Even when I am mad at you, we are still friends." god, hearing that was hard. Because he clearly had no idea how much he was friend-zoning me. But I had to tell him, so I sucked it up and just did.

"Gorvon, Iloveyou."

"I didn't catch that, you spoke to fast."

"I said that I love you."

"To quite. What was that?"

I sighed in frustration.

"I said that I love you!"

"Once more."

"Oh, for goodness sake, you must have heard me that time!" I finally got the courage to look up at him. He was smiling down at me.

"I did hear you, but that doesn't mean I do not enjoy hearing it more."

"You- you-" I know, I am so clever and witty. I always know just what to say.

"Well," he said, still looking smug, "You are right that I don't want to be friends anymore." and then he pulled my head to his and kissed me.

And it was kind of the best thing ever.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, like I would expect from a guy like him. No, this was a full on, makes you feel like you're freezing and burning and melting, tingles-down-your-spine kiss.

After that lovely part, I just sort of gaped at him.

"Candes," he said, "I have loved you for some time now. But I said nothing because you are going through so much, with your foresight, and being in a new world... I did not want to burden you."

"I would hardly call that kiss _burdening_ me." I admitted.

He laughed.

"It is not just a kiss, though. Courtship here is rather strict... the sort of conduct I just displayed would only be acceptable once a couple is betrothed. And I understand if you do not feel ready to enter into a formal engagement, I know things work differently where you are from-"

"Get me a ring."

"What?"

"We're supposed to trade silver rings, aren't we? I don;t have a ring now, but I'm sure I can figure something out. If it's too much trouble to get a ring maybe we can-"

He kissed me again.

And then he said the best thing he could have; "Woman, I would get you a jewelers store if that's what it took."

000

**So, yeah. That happened. Like I said, I needed something to hold over the time until the war really kicks off. The council is on day 420, so the nest few chapters will have some can-von fluff and character building.**

**Since this is a pretty big chapter for me, _please_ review. It means the world.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! Last chapter was a hard one; I wanted it to be romantic, but it was very important to me for Candes to be the one who confessed first. So I'm very glad everyone seemed to enjoy it.

Also, sorry for the wait, I spent last weekend cleaning my room instead if writing, so...

(and yes, I _did_ have too much fun coming up with wedding traditions; only a few have a basis in reality. I deviated from the elvish norm because **A**,i think that after a few thousand years, some things would have changed, and **B**, I like inventing wedding things).

Chapter Fourteen

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty Three**

You know that amazing moment when you wake up and your life isn't just a dream?

Yeah, I love that moment.

Last night, after everything with Gorvon(!), I found Nimhel and Lýthril. I just smiled at them and they, being elves, knew. This also meant that within an hour, every elf in Rivendell knew. But I'm okay with that.

Because I just saw Gorvon walking towards me to eat.

More later.

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty Three, later**

Well, Gorvon had to leave. It was sad, but I know I'll see him soon; he's going to spread the news to the Dúnedain and in three months or so, around my birthday, he'll be back, possibly with some others for an engagement party.

I miss him; but it's not as bad as before, because I know I'll get him back. Besides, I got to kiss him goodbye (and rest assured, there _will_ be some questions on where he learned to kiss like that)

Of course, I need to figure out how to get a ring...

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty Three, even later**

I spoke to Glorfindel about the ring issue. He told me not to worry, and that he would help me out. I' not sure if that's actually going to calm my worries; he has quite flamboyant taste.

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty Four**

I spoke to Erestor about wedding customs back home. Our biggest debate was over the dress; apparently, blue is the color of purity here, not white. But I always dreamed of wearing a white princess dress.

He eventually said that perhaps a very light blue would be fine. But he completely vetoed the stomping on the glass my uncle did when he married that hand model from Russia. Apparently breaking glassware is considered a bit _gauche_

oh well, I didn't quite know what that meant anyways.

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty Four, Later**

I just realized everyone expects me to up and go in a few months. I was a bit worried about my story getting out, that I can't move to Arnor until after the war because I know that it will happen/everything about it, but then I realized the council is in a ew months.

I am both relieved and scared' the war is a topic I try not to think of.

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty Six**

The last three days have consisted of congratulations, and planing. Nimhel insisted on sewing my dress (she thought light blue would be very pretty), and Lýthril offered to make me a hair covering (it's a part of the traditional Dúnedain wedding ceremony that the husband put his wifes hair up to signify she is married).

Speaking of wedding customs, there are some interesting ones. First, since we met in September, our wedding should be around them. There is an exchange of a sword (which I give to him) and a piece of jewelry (which he gives me). There are a few parts to the ceremony, but I hear it is more lax than Gondorian or Rohirrim weddings (no waving of the bloodied bed sheets outside of my window).

I have been learning them all and more. Erestor has given me a Rohirrim wedding tradition he though I might like; kissing over a pile of cakes. He said it would enforce my story of being an amnesic Rohirric orphan (no one has _said_ I am an orphan, it was simply implied). But I did mention it to Nimhel (who is very enthusiastic about my wedding. And smug. So very, very smug).

It's a little alarming since I only got engaged a few days ago. Still, the wedding won't be for a while, I have time to get used to the idea.

**Day Three Hundred and Forty**

It's been a while. Sorry, I've been floating on a cloud of bliss.

Glorfindel showed me to the metal workers shop, where an ellon named Aithanar agreed to help me make a ring.

The ring exchange isn't to different from those of the elves; they switch rings then give them back, which is all fine and good for them because a ring that fits on an ellon is going to fit on an elleth. But mortals actually have physical distinctions between the sexes, so it's custom that they give you a ring that's for you, and instead of returning it you wear it near your heart, and at the ceremony put it on.

So I'm working on making a ring for Gorvon. It's going to be thick and silver with a sort of braided pattern on the edged, and the middle will be clear.

In other news, I've been working extra hard with Glaewron and Celegeth, who have begun to teach me about surgery. As if butchering animals for food isn't enough.

**Day Three Hundred and Forty One**

The ring was ready today; it's perfect. I'm keeping it in the wallet Nimhel gave me, but I pull it out and look at it every so often.

I'm getting married.

To Gorvon.

I cannot t my happiness into words.

**Day Three Hundred and Forty Three**

I worked on the dress with Nimhel today; which is to say, she drew sketches and I told her what I thought. It's going to be simple; long sleeves, a scoop neckline (since I don't have any cleavage, this won't be scandalous), and a long skirt. But the little details, like the cut of the bodice and the buttons down the back make it seem impossible perfect. And the fabric; it's this perfect icy blue; the top it going to be all beaded with glass and crystal and the skirt is just going to flow...

I may not have a princess gown, but I have my perfect wedding dress.

**000**

**So, another short one... sorry. I was cleaning my room, like I said. Also, sidenote, the thing about the glass: In Jewish culture, the groom syomps on a glass at a wedding to remember that even in happy time, the temple was destroyed (or something like that. I didn't really pay attention in Hebrew School). I wanted to include that because Candes _is_ half-Jewish.**

**Please review, it means a lot to me.**

**Also, does anyone have any good fanfic recommendations? My two current favorites (The Skipper by LinzRW and The Shieldmaiden of the North by Bronze Cat) haven't been updated in a while and I could use something good (but please not overly dramatic or angst-y. And no slash) to hold me over.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thank you for the reviews and suggestions! I've read and enjoyed many of them (though I would like to say that maddy051280 has given me an official new headcanon Amrothos who will not go away). The next chapter is an attempt to bring back the feel of earlier chapters for the sake of pacing. Alas, this story has evolved beyond what I expected it to be; I am very grateful to all of you who've been supportive and encouraging. It means a lot to me that you've stuck with me for so long.

Chapter Fifteen

**Day Three Hundred and Forty Four**

Successfully completed surgery on a dead rabbit.

His leg is on backwards, but oh, well. He's dead anyways.

**Day Three Hundred and Forty Six**

Sewed on another rabbit leg. The right way.

**Day Three Hundred and Forty Nine**

Apparently Glaewron thinks I should know how to ride a horse. It is sad to see someone slowly lose their mind.

**Day Three Hundred and Fifty**

Glorfindel agreed with him. Silly elves, they will never get me on a horse by myself.

**Day Three Hundred and Fifty One**

They got me on a horse by myself. I almost cried, but Suldal is very nice and patient with me. He is a good horse. I fed him an apple.

I am never getting on another horse again, however. Not alone. They are far to high from the ground.

**Day Three Hundred and Fifty Four**

Ruinir named me the best mortal soup-maker he had encountered. I am so proud of myself that I am choosing to ignore the part where he said I still needed to work on my non-pizza baked goods and meat.

**Day Three Hundred and Fifty Five**

I have mastered basic stitches in small animals. I just need to remember that things don't go n backwards. And I need to remember which way is backwards.

In other news, I threw up when I realized they wanted be to begin work on internal organs.

**Day Three Hundred and Fifty Seven**

Spent the day with Erestor, learning how to write. You think a quill is just a fancy pen until you try to use it.

**Day Three Hundred and Fifty Eight**

Spilled ink on my dress. Thankfully, Nimhel had another one about my size I can ware for a while. It's dark blue and very pretty.

**Day Three Hundred and Sixty**

Lýthril, who is making my hair-veil, showed me a sketch. It seems very pretty; she said it will make my hair look shiny.

**Day Three Hundred and Sixty Three**

I have accomplished a simple suture in the muscle. It was disgusting, but when I move to Arnor after the war, it will be useful.

It ma even be useful before then, but I do not want to think about that.

**Day Three Hundred and Sixty Five**

So, a year. It is almost impossible for me to get my head around the magnitude of that. A year since I've seen my home, my family, my friends. A year in which I've leaned new skills, met new people, fallen in love, gotten _engaged_.

A year.

I miss my family, but I know I would miss Gorvon if I left, not to mention my friends...

I drank little toast to myself at dinner. When I looked up, Glorfindel had seen me and mimicked it. It's good to have friends, I think.

0

**Please, review, I will love you forever.**

**Expect slow updates; I'm helping a few friends on a fourth-age project and am doing some research for that. Any resources on fourth-age things, the culture of the middle ages (particularly as it may apply to Gondor), and things of the like, would be hugely appreciated.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! Hey really help me and I love each and every one of you all the more for them.

Chapter Sixteen

**Day Three Hundred and Seventy**

Sorry I haven't written in a few days. I've been on a strange plateau of feelings since I hit the one year mark. My birthday (and Gorvon's return) is in about a month. I'll be twenty-four.

Not much out of the ordinary has happened. I've been screwing up in surgery, slowly learning how to properly cook meat, and my Sindarin lessons have turned into general talks about Middle Earth culture. Lindir still comes and sings, but knows to keep any musical instruments far, far from me.

I spend a lot of time cleaning; it helps calm me down. Somehow it makes me feel more in control of my situation, even though cleaning won't resolve any of my feelings.

I've been thinking about home a lot. About my family.

I miss them, all the time, every second I think about it. A few months ago, I would have gone back without a second thought.

But now... now I learned to love it here. More than just Gorvon -though I do love him more than I can say- but... I love the elves. And the Dúnedain. And cooking. And healing. And this world... maybe, I don't know, I was meant to turn up here, and there was just some glitch and I was born on earth?

I don't know. I don;t think that's it; my dad and I may have had out issues, but I still loved my parents. And I look just like my grandmother Kay. But part of me feels like I belong here too. It's a headache.

**Day Three Hundred and Seventy Three**

I looked at the veil Lýthril is beginning to work on. It's going to be very pretty; beaded in the same style as my wedding dress.

I just need o think of my wedding to get exited again

**Day Three Hundred and Seventy Nine**

I know, I know, it's been a week. I've been busy.

Well, no, I haven't, but I've been practicing sutures. I have perfected them, at least in small animals.

In other news, attempting to cook after sewing up a cut in an animals muscle is not a good idea. Nor is vomit the best fertilizer.

**Day Three Hundred and Eighty Two**

I have finally, _finally_ cooked a "very good rabbit", in Bilba's words. Ruinir still needs to be convinced.

**Day Three Hundred and Eighty Five**

while my meat skills are finally getting to where they need to be, my bread still tastes like flour.

_Note: add less flour to bread_.

**Day Three Hundred and Eighty Six**

Now bread is soupy. More work required.

**Day Three Hundred and Ninety**

Ruinir finally gave me his top-secret bread recipe. He essentially just told me how much flour to put in. one step closer to a certifiable cook!

**Day Three Hundred and Ninety One**

No closer to a baker however. Cake tasted like rubber.

**Day Three Hundred and Ninety Two**

Amdirben came today, he saw, me, grinned, and then said

"I was so glad to hear the news I almost forgot to make fun of Gorvon!"

Well, that's one wedding sentiment I wasn't exactly expecting.

We ate lunch and it was rather nice. He told me some amusing things; apparently Gorvon has been rising around like the madman that he is and practically singing when he announced to whoever was home that he was engaged to me.

"From what Baradir, Gorven, and Carathor told us from their more frequent visits, it was painfully obvious to all but you."

I feel so clever. Really.

**Day Three Hundred and Ninety Four**

Hallbarad, Baradir, and Padhron came, along with a Dúnedain named Lomon I don;t think I've mentioned before; he's only got one eye but he's a hoot.

The general consensus was that had I realized my feelings sooner, things would have taken less time. Well, hey, it takes two to tango!

As a side note, my pizza rolls are Dúnedain certified as delicious.

**Day Thee Hundred and Ninety Five**

Carathor and Aithron made it. Only a few more and we'll have half a village. But it's unlikely too many more can make it, and they're insisting on having a huge party when I get to Arnor.

**Day Three Hundred and Ninety Five, Later**

Gorven came, got off his horse, walked up t me, and almost hugged the oxygen out of my lungs. Then he said "Finally!" so loudly I think everyone heard it. Wouldn't surprise me if they did. They're elves.

One more to go, best for last, I guess.

**Day Three Hundred and Ninety Seven**

He's here.

**Day Three Hundred and Ninety Seven, Later**

Gorvon just smiled at me when he arrived. I suggested we go for a walk in the gardens and he agreed, and when we got to the spot where it happened, he gave me a ring. It's beautiful; silver, a thin band, but there's a sort of braided pattern along it, made of of miniscule, complicated knots.

Which is fitting, he knotted when he saw his ring; they match.

"I missed you," I admitted, after we finished the more physical part of getting reacquainted.

"I've missed you, as well. Burnt rabbit is not the same without you there to enjoy it."

I hit him in the arm, but I was smiling.

00

sorry it's short. Updates may be slow; I'm working as the beta for two projects and planning out a rather elaborate story involving multiple timeliness, all three ages, and girls in middle earth who mess things up, for a change.

_**Please review, it's what keeps me going**_.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter Seventeen

**Day Three Hundred and Ninety Eight**

All the elves got in on the engagement party action. Hey, any excuse for a party.

There was good food and good wine and dancing; including some rather complicated dance steps it took me a while to learn. Gorvon admitted he hated dancing, but still danced to every other song with me.

I miss dancing; last time I got to was at my Uncles wedding.

But with the elves help I managed to master a few easy steps. And Gorvon was a pretty good partner, for all of his grumbling.

There was an excellent dinner, of course, and the Dúnedain insisted on giving a speech, and it was the nicest thing I had ever heard. Gorven gave it, about how he was so glad his son found someone who made him happy, and how he was glad I was joining their family, and I was almost in tears by the end of it.

It was one of my best nights since I arrived here, and now I am going to go to sleep happy.

**Day Three Hundred and Ninety Nine**

Most of the Dúnedain, sans Gorvon, left today. I told them I would see them soon when I came to Arnor even though I knew that would be a long while, if t happened at all. Moving house during crisis isn't the best of ideas.

But Carathor gave me a pre-birhday gift from his family. "It is customary for a girl to inherit one of her mothers possessions, usually something related to caring for the home or children. My girls know you were found with no possessions, and they thought you might appreciate this."

_this_ turned out to be a small blanket, a very light gray, but soft and down filled and lined at the edges with silk. I cried again and thanked him, and then write a letter to his family expressing my thanks for everything they've done for me. I put the blanket with my other prized possessions.

**Day Four Hundred**

Officially a twenty-four year old!

I Told Gorvon this. He made a face like he just walked in on his parents doing it or noticed that he'd been drinking urine, then said in the most monotonous of voices, "I have robbed a cradle. I am marrying a woman straight out of her mother's womb."

I hit him and he snapped out of it.

"Sorry. I knew you were young, it is just..."

"Look," I told him, "You are forty-seven. I don't complain that I am marrying a middle-aged man, do I?"

"You are right, I am sorry." and to make up for it he kissed me.

I got gifts from all of my friends, but I won't write the list. Mostly books and jewelery- but Gorvon gave me the best gift.

"I was not sure what to get you," he admitted to me, "so I hope you like this. It is just a silly trinket, but..."

it was a small bird-cage made of bronze, or something similar. Inside was a metal bird attached to a few cords which, it turn, were attached to some odd gears that were connected to the door, to tat when it opened, the little bird spread its wings and opened it's beak and whistled.

"I love it," I told him honestly, and then I took a few minutes to thank him.

**Day Four Hundred and One**

I spent the morning with Gorvon before he left, walking in the gardens and talking about our wedding. I told him about my customs and he admitted to some he was glad we were excluding, mostly the garter toss. But he said that there might be a glass breaking, not that I know what he was referring to.

He left in the afternoon, and I'm getting worried it may have been the last time I see him in a while. But I won't think of that.

**Day Four Hundred and Four**

Glorfindel left today. Oh god, it's starting. It's starting and I can't do anything to stop it...

**Day Four Thirteen**

Sorry I haven't written in a while, I've been hyperventilating. Gandalf arrived today, and I had a long talk with him about everything that's happened.

He confirmed my story- nothing has changed yet.

**Day Four Fifteen**

They're here.

00

**So, everything is kicking off now...**

**please review! Reviews are what encourage me to keep writing!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** I don't own LotR

**Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! Sorry it's taken my a while to update.

Chapter Eighteen

**Day Four Hundred and Sixteen**

I had almost forgotten about the hobbits-being-here thing.

I went to the little antechamber Bilba spent much time in, working on his book, to ask him to try a new mushroom dish I made, only to find him drinking tea with another hobbit.

"Oh, sorry- I didn't mean to intrude..." I said, panicking.

"If that is a mushroom dish I see, it is not intrusion at all!" Bilba said happily, then he switched to Westron. "Candes, this is Kalimac Brandagamba, a relative. Kali, this is Candes. She is staying here until such time as her betrothed, a Dúnedain, has made the necessary arrangements for her to o up to Arnor."

Kali- who I have figured out is Merry, by the way, smiled at me, but he clearly thought it was odd that I, a human, was here.

"Ruinir let me have a go at some mushrooms, and I thought I might bring some to you," I said, setting the dish down on a small table.

"Candes, have a seat! Kali, Candes spent some time in Bree, at... what inn was it again?"

"I don't know its name, but it was near the well with the green roof and the cart where that girl sells the flowers," I said, then I turned to Kali, "Do you know it?"

"I think so; but say, how did you get from Bree to here? I did not know any humans but Strider were around. And, I mean no offense by this, you don;t look as if you are from Bree."

he is rather matter-of-fact. Not to say he isn't extremely polite and likeable, because he is, he is just _also_ very reasonable and doesn't talk around issues so much, from what I can tell.

"I am not, I admit. I don;t know exactly how I ended up there; I believe I am from Rohan, but I cannot recall much, just snippets. Gorvon, my betrothed, found me wandering in the woods. He did not want to bring me directly here, so he left me in the innkeepers _care_- say, Kali, if you ever stay in Bree, d not stay at that inn. That woman has slaves, not employees- but Gorvon returned and brought me here, hoping to shed some light on my situation."

Bilba had given me a very odd look during this speech. But it passed.

Once we finished the mushrooms, Kali excused himself to go stay with his friend Maura (Frodo). That's when Bilba brought up the topic.

"I know your story is false." he said it so casually the for a moment I thought he had commented on the blueness of the sky, "Oh, don't fret," he went on, "I will not press you for answers, if Elrond and Mithrandir trust you than who am I not to? I just thought you should know. And excellent mushroom's, by the way. Very savory."

He went on drinking his tea and I just sort of gaped at him.

**Day Four Hundred and Sixteen, Later**

I ran into Aragorn just now.

"You knew." was all he said at first.

"Yes, I did know. You _know_ I knew."

"Yes, but I was never completely certain you knew. Now I know you knew."

"I just said that."

"I know. I said it again because now I know I knew."

"Ah! This conversation is too confusing to have in Sindarin! I don't know who knows I knew what anymore!"

He laughed.

"How have you been, Candes?"

"Oh, very good, until a few days ago. I had a birthday, I got engaged- oh, I am engaged to Gorvon now, by the way. I suppose it only makes sense. I could never marry someone who was not a Dúnedain. I would always think to myself _they will never be as great as the Dúnedain, __because the rangers of Arnor are, like, the best thing ever_. Well, I suppose I could marry Gorvon no matter what race he was, because he is Gorvon and really what more do I need than that? But I suppose if he wasn't a ranger I never would have met him, so perhaps-"

"You are babbling."

I frown.

"I know. I am hoping that if I keep talking I won't need to think too much."

He smiled sadly.

"Some degree of foresight is always good, but I do not envy you, Candes. But to be honest, I am a bit reassured by the fact that you have chosen not to tell us anything of what is to come. Perhaps you should be, too."

And then he walked off.

I swear, people in Middle Earth and their dramatic exits after saying profound things. Is there a class on that?

**Day Four Hundred and Seventeen**

Three days until the council of Elrond.

I told Mithrandir what Bilba said to me and he nodded.

"I suppose he is rather observant, for a Hobbit."

Whenever Mithrandir is around, I can't help but think that The Valar and Eru exist. It makes me think. I probably should have gone to church more.

**Day Four Hundred and Eighteen**

Two days.

**Day Four Hundred and Nineteen**

It's tomorrow. Dear lord, it's tomorrow.

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	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Thank you for all the lovely reviews!

Chapter Nineteen

**Day Four Hundred and Twenty**

I was happily freaking out while curled up under my covers when Nimhel came in.

"Candes, are you alright?"

"Yes," I said, "Perfectly fine."

She did not believe me, and she was not going to let me mope all day. No, she had a job for me.

"You speak a dialect of Westron similar to the ones the halflings speak, so I thought you should offer to show those who will not be attending to any business tonight around Rivendell."

I sort of died a little bit at that point. Because seriously, that is an awful idea. So obviously I accidentally accepted it without thinking.

Well, I was thinking. I was thinking that I needed to stop acting like a spaz. And that I didn't want to have to explain that I was going to be a standoffish bitch to the hobbits because I didn't want to be around them when I knew exactly how sucky their life was about to get.

Gosh, what am I going to do?

**Day Four Hundred and Twenty, Later on**

Remember when I was trying to keep Gorvon from realizing I loved him and basically acted like a dumb walrus? Well, my acting skills have improved. Possibly because Erestor pulled me aside before I was off to tour and told me "If you reveal anything, you risk all of Middle Earth."

How does he know I'm risking things by _not_ saying anything? Maybe him and Aragorn have been chatting.

But I managed to make polite conversation with the two hobbits as I showed them around the house. I dropped in all of my usual haunts, but they seemed most impressed with the kitchens. I decided to be a show off and whipped up my world-famous onion soup and pizza rolls.

As we were eating, they talked about the Shire. Well, the people in the shire. Their friends, family... to be honest, the overwhelming homesickness got me over my fear of misspeaking.

They seemed to notice this, however, and began to ask more about Rivendell; what were the elves like (_elvish._) Did everyone have a specific job or did everyone do everything? (_Everyone has a job, but it's one they love doing_) how does one get used to living with elves? (_You Don't. One never gets over being treated like a five-year-old with scissors_). How you tell ellons and elleths apart? (_You just pray that you're right about whether or not that's a dress or a robe_).

To be honest, I forgot all about the council until Glorfindel walked up to me tonight at dinner and asked to speak with me.

He asked me to tell him what decision had been reached, and I did. And then I cried. He just patted me back until I calmed down.

I think I'll try to sleep now.

**Day Four Hundred and Twenty One, Early**

I woke up when Lýthril slapped my face to stop my hysteric screaming. I don't remember what I dreamed about, but I was in tears and shaking. Lýthril seemed very worried and insisted I talk to Elrond or Mithrandir this morning, so I'm getting ready for that.

I just have a few flashes in my head; not visions, but _feelings: _a burning pain, this smoky scent... something with a cold blade... I keep on replaying those images to keep from forgetting them.

**Day Four Hundred and Twenty One, Later**

I spoke to Mithrandir about my dream. He thinks it may have to do with the ring and plans to look into that, though why would I not have had a nightmare earlier if that were the case, since it got here days ago?

But things get worse. On my way to breakfast, I ran into Boromir. Yes, that one.

"Excuse me," he asked, "Could you direct me to the dinning hall, I seem to be a bit lost..."

gosh, diary, he was so _friendly_. And _kind_.

"Were you the girl who had the nightmare earlier?" he asked, "You seem a little shaken..." I let him think that was that. That it was the nightmare, not, you know, _him_.

"Did I wake everyone up?" I asked, blushing.

"Oh, I am sure you did not. I am just a very light sleeper."

I realized then that he did not know _I_ knew who he was, so I asked.

"I am Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor."

I acted very impressed and flabbergasted. Admittedly, it wasn't much acting.

"It is an honor to meet you," I said. Then, of course, he asked about me, and I unloaded my cover story. He was very saddened by this.

"I will do what ever is in my power to try and find your family, if they are, indeed, from anywhere near Gondor," he promised, even once I told him they were most likely Rohirric.

"From what I can tell with all of these dwarves and men gathering here, you have more important things to focus on." He just smiled sadly.

I felt bad leaving him alone to eat, so we had breakfast together, during which he told me about places in Gondor, and it was nice, but once we were done I high-tailed it out of there.

The worst part is, I _really_ like him. He's so kind and amiable and friendly. But he's also a dead-man-walking. And I already know one to well to cope with this.

**Sorry for the long wait. AP test week is approaching, so updates are going to slow.**

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	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer:** I do not own LotR

**Notes:** Sorry for the wait APs and state tests will delay writing. Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter Twenty

**Day Four Hundred and Twenty Two**

Several people all departed to go find Nazgul. Boromir wanted to go, but seeing how he lost his horse, he could not. He told me as much over lunch. It is becoming increasingly hard to not be friends with him.

**Day Four Hundred and Twenty Five**

I have been trying to spend all of my time with the hobbits, but seeing how they just added Boromir to their little circle of tea-drinking, I feel it will get more difficult.

I'm been cooking a lot. Mostly making soup; it calms me to know there's something I am good at.

**Day Four Hundred and Thirty**

I've been handing out with Celegeth and Eregeth. They've been helping me learn healing to an extreme degree.

I spoke to Boromir about it a little, because I just can't stand to see him wander Rivendell alone like a lost puppy, even though I _know_ it will break my heart when he leaves. But since I've come here, I've realized that sometimes, other people are more important than you are.

I mean, I don't want Boromir to spend his last months alone and friendless, entirely homesick. And it might hurt me, in fact, I know it will, but I can deal with pain.

**Day Four Hundred and Thirty Six**

As we get closer and closer to the war, I find it harder to write.

I had a dream about Gorvon last night; I find most of it to private to put on paper. But it made it a bit easier for me today, because I know that Gorvon is always going to be out there, so I'll always have someone to help me pick up the pieces.

**Day Four Hundred and Forty**

I made a perfect mushroom dish- mushrooms in mushroom sauce backed into this flaky pastry bread. I gave it to the hobbit because I knew that with all of the mushrooms, they wouldn't say anything mean.

I must say, Kali is probably the one I'm friendliest with. We seem to both love lore and all of that, so I tell him stories I've heard and he tells me ones he has. I'd like to think we're becoming friends, because all of the friends I have are either Dúnedain who are rarely here or elves who will soon be gone.

But that's another thing I do not want to think about.

**Day Four Hundred and Forty Two**

I miss Macy.

She was my best friend, and I haven' spoken to her in over a year.

She had this bright red hair and huge green eyes and was super smart- she's the only reason I passed English class. She got into William and Mary and planned to be a doctor someday. People at school used to call us "the beauty and the brains", but she didn't care that people thought she was less pretty than me.

Macy didn't care what anyone thought.

I don't know why I suddenly miss her. I think something about Kali reminds me of her.

**Day Four Hundred and Forty Six**

I had a long talk with Glorfindel and Erestor about my life. It was nice to unload.

**Day Four Hundred and Forty Seven**

I taught Boromir my secret onion soup recipe, under pain of death should he reveal it. When he asked me why, I told him "you're going to need some good food whenever you head home."

I tried not to cry to much when he thanked me.

**000**

So, a long wait and a short chapter- I apologize.

A lot has happened the past few weeks; APs, finals, a ton of stress... and I know it's not an excuse, but it's an explanation.

Please review!


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